Searching for Clark Kent
by Wahoogal06
Summary: A post-SR tale. Lois and Clark draw closer together AND closer to the truth, while events are being set in motion by an unknown foe that will prove to have repercussions for years to come. COMPLETE! #1 of 5 in series.
1. Chapter 1

**"???" **The pain that had wracked his body for the last several days (Or was it weeks? Maybe months? He couldn't remember a time when the soreness and throbbing **hadn't **been present) was not what woke him up out of his fitful sleep, but rather the sound of a door creaking open somewhere in the pitch blackness. Try as he might his eyes refused to locate the source of the noise; that is, until his ears did it for him.

"The Boss says it's showtime!" came a menacing voice out of the dark oblivion.

The adrenaline that surged through his body sent his heart skyrocketing at the words and he quickly got himself up in a sitting position while scrambling to the nearest corner. It was his best chance for a defense, backing into that corner; it propped him up when his legs refused to do so and also prevented an attack from behind. He strained to hear the footsteps of his attacker (Attackers? He thought he heard multiple…), readying his fists like a boxer, when the first blow unexpectedly made contact with his stomach.

And another pummeling began.

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, May 16, 2007.** An attractive young woman's heels echoed against the cool marble floor as she strolled to her employer's office. Knocking twice before throwing back the double doors she allowed herself to take in the scene before her; the corner office on the 25th floor had two walls of glass windows, and the great Metropolis skyline now framed the figure working away at the expansive oak desk.

"Yes, Jeanine?" he asked pleasantly without looking up from his work.

"Sir, you have a telephone call on line 1."

"And who is calling?"

"Well Sir, he wouldn't give his name. He said that you would _want_ to speak to him, that he had a business proposition for you." The latter part of the statement caused him to perk up almost imperceptibly.

"Thank you, Jeanine, I'll take the call this time," he said with a sigh as she backed out of his office, closing the doors behind her. Grabbing a fresh pad of paper and a pen he took a deep breath before picking up the phone and pushing the blinking red light.

"Hello?"

"Hello…" came a raspy voice on the other end of the line.

* * *

_**Daily Planet, **_**May 16, 2007**. Lois' life had been crumbling apart since that fateful dinner date with Richard. They met a few times in the weeks following the decision, explaining the situation to Jason and coming to the agreement that they would sell the house. It was two weeks after the dinner that Richard came over to collect the last of his belongings, and that was when she finally gave him back his ring.

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving you," he told her as his fingers closed over what had once been a token of their affection.

She recalled similar words spoken to her nights before by the man she _truly_ loved, and her shoulders heaved under a sob as she responded, "I know…but you need to be loved by someone who will love you just as much in return, and I…I…I just can't do that. I'm sorry."

That exchange had been on re-play in her head ever since. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and there were dark circles underneath from lack of sleep. Once Richard left she moved down the hall into the guest room; sleeping in the master bedroom without him seemed like such a mockery of their relationship that she just couldn't do it anymore. In the meantime Lois continued to search for an apartment for her and Jason but she had yet to meet with any success. Clark, ever the good friend, had offered up his place to the pair of them if she ever felt_ really_ uncomfortable at her house or if she hadn't found a place after it was sold, but she didn't think it necessary. He'd been so good, watching Jason for her in the bullpen when she stayed late researching or typing up a story, and that was a big help in and of itself.

She glanced over at the desk across the way from hers and noted Clark's absence. _Perhaps Perry already sent him out on assignment? Oh well, it's all for the best…I'm in no shape to work well with a partner these days anyway,_ she thought to herself before her Editor broke her out of her reverie.

"LANE! My office!" he yelled out the door to her.

She sprang up out of the chair and scrambled for her notepad. "Coming, Chief!"

She scuttled into Perry's office in a manner more befitting Jimmy Olsen than Mad Dog Lane and quietly closed the door behind her.

"So how're you holdin' up?" he asked in a less-than-professional tone. Perry always had a fondness for Lois, like a father would for a daughter he suspected (though he'd never had any children of his own), but he rarely let it show around the office. His nephew had informed him of their split before taking off for…well, he wasn't quite sure where Richard was these days, but he had been keeping an eye on Lois ever since.

"I'm fine," she replied as casually as she could muster.

"Lois, don't bull-shit a bull-shitter," he dead-panned.

"Perry, I'm…I…I've…I've been better. I just need to work, to stay active, keep my mind off things, you know?"

"I know, and that's why I've got an assignment for you." She looked back at him with a silent but grateful expression on her tired face. "As you know, the 'Get to Know Your Planet' segment we've been running has been doing a piece a month on a member of it's staff, and this month is Clark Kent's turn," he paused to see her reaction and got none. "I want you to write it Lois, bring him and his work back to the attention of the readers. We should've done it sooner, but what with Luthor's mess and the clean-up efforts, we just never got around to it. That's what I want from you, Lane; a nice write-up on Kent, by Monday."

The old indignant Lois shot up out of her chair. "But, Chief, you can't be serious?! You want _me_ to do the write-up on _Smallville_? What's there to write about? He's from a farm, he's worked here before, he went on a trek around the globe and now he's back! Chief, Jimmy could write a piece on Clark Kent, and Jimmy's not even a journalist! Why are you wasting my time and talent on a fluff piece?" She stood up from her seat with hands on Perry's desk, attempting to impose her will on her boss. Despite being friends with the subject of the piece Lois thought Perry could find a better use for her Pulitzer Prize winning writing.

"Lois, I wouldn't let Jimmy write a Planet article if he were the last employee in the building and I DON'T want a puff piece; that's why I want _you_, one of my best investigative reporters to work on it. It's what, about lunchtime, right? Ok, so you've got four and a half days to get the scoop on Kent. The citizens of Metropolis need a good human interest story now, Lois; after all the doom and gloom from the repercussions of Luthor's last attempt on the City I'd have thought you more than anybody would have seen that. If the people have to read about another Metropolis Disaster Relief corruption scandal…" he let out a sigh as his own frustration as the City's situation seeped through.

"Alright, but if I'm going to get the scoop on Kent I need to go incognito…I'm betting they don't call it Smallville for nothing."

Perry sat back at his desk and listened to her propositions, raising an eyebrow only when she arrived at her final point.

"You want _me_ to take care of _Jason_? What do you expect me to do with a five year old?"

"You're his_Uncle_, Perry! Besides, you didn't give me much notice for this out-of-town assignment and it's not like I can just call a babysitter over for four days. I'm sure you'll think of something, Chief…" she gave him a sly smile, knowing that she had him cornered, before turning around and heading out of the office. "And call my cell when you have that flight information!" she called out before the doors swung shut. Those in the bullpen looked over and saw Perry opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, as he realized he'd just been shanghaied into babysitting duty until Sunday evening.

Lois, meanwhile, strode back to her desk to collect her personal belongings before heading home to pack for Kansas.


	2. Chapter 2

"**???" **He didn't know if it had been ten minutes, an hour, or an eternity before they stopped raining their fists upon him and dragged him down a cob-web strewn cinder block hallway. The blood trickled down his forehead, mingling with the sweat from his exertions as he tried to deflect the blows and making it more difficult to focus on where they were now taking him.

The surroundings were different from the ones his wardens had held him in previously. While it was still too well-fortified to consider an escape, it was less grandiose than his former prisons. The place was dingier and mustier, which meant one of two things; either the authorities were narrowing in on his captor, or his captor was nearing the end of his torturous game.

He sent up a silent prayer that it was the former.

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, Mid-May 16, 2007. **"Well," asked the raspy disembodied voice, "Do we have an agreement?"

The other man had been pacing in front of his desk for the last thirty minutes, listening to the proposition with great interest. He pored over his hastily scribbled notes, taking a mental inventory of what materials would be required to implement the plan placed before him. While there were still _some_ aspects of the arrangement that unsettled him, he thought that they could hammer out the finer points in later negotiations—in short he found it to be too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Yes…yes I believe we do," he replied.

"My associates will be by later in the week with the paperwork then. Good day." And the other end of the line went dead.

* * *

_**Daily Planet, **_**May 16, 2007. **Clark had been running around all day and had spent hardly more than twenty minutes at a time in the _Daily Planet_'s offices. Not only was he out chasing down leads for various assignments, but there was a disastrous mudslide in Indonesia that had to be taken care of, and also a hostage situation in North Korea, which required quite a chunk of his time. He briefly considered transferring to the International Section before realizing the implications of _that _career choice and settled into his desk chair around 6:30 pm. It took less than a minute for him to register Lois' absence from the office.

Jimmy was just walking past his desk on his way home when Clark caught him by the elbow. "Hey, Jimmy, have you seen Lois?"

"I _think_ she might be out on assignment, CK. The Chief called her in around lunchtime and she left with her stuff shortly thereafter. Don't ask me what it's about though cause I haven't a clue."

"Oh," he said, a little crestfallen at the missed opportunity of spending time with her and Jason. Ever since the split she'd been bringing their son by the office more and more, and he'd enjoyed spending time with him while Lois delved deeper into her work. Clark knew this was one of her coping mechanisms; a semi-unhealthy coping mechanism, but he let her be for the moment, knowing she'd snap out of it in the end.

Jimmy noted the faraway look on Clark's face and decided to take his leave. "Good night, Clark, see you tomorrow." He headed toward the elevator bay.

"Oh yeah, see you, Jimmy."

Clark sat at his computer screen trying to type out his story while straining his ears listening for the pair of heartbeats he loved most in the world.

* * *

What Clark didn't know was that Lois was 30,000 feet up, in a coach seat bought and paid for by the _Daily Planet_, and headed to his hometown. Lois had dropped Jason off with Perry at the office earlier that afternoon and collected her boarding pass, rental car, and hotel information from him.

"Ella Streete? The best you could come up with for me going incognito was my mother's maiden name?"

"I thought that it would be easier to remember and less conspicuous than 'Gracie Lou Freebush'," he replied as Lois smirked at the reference, "Besides, I found it amusing."

"Found what amusing?"

"That Ella _Streete_ married Sam _Lane_." He grinned broadly at his wit.

Lois groaned. Perry had also handed her a press pass and fake license with the pseudonym on it so she'd have no trouble bypassing security. She took the folder with all the documents and stuffed it into her carry-on before bending down to kiss Jason good-bye. She had to admit that her Editor-in-Chief had quite a bit of pull when it came to arranging for these items so quickly…_If only I had connections like that, I'd have my second Pulitzer by now…_

She squatted, now eye-level with her son. "Be good for Uncle Perry, Sweetie…I'll only be gone a couple of days and I want a good report from him when I come back."

"Yes Mommy," he said, giving her one last hug before turning back to the picture he had started to draw. _Looks like Uncle Perry's refrigerator will be covered in Superman drawings by the time I get back…if he only knew the half of it…_she thought to herself as she strode back toward the elevator bay.

Midway through her flight Lois pulled out the thin file she had on her partner and started to formulate an outline. Sad as it was, she had to admit that she knew little about her friend and his life outside the office, aside from the fact that he grew up in a farm town. _Well if Perry wants 'Clark Kent, the Early Years' I think I better start at Town Hall…then maybe head over to the farmhouse after that…or maybe I'll stop at the high school and then the Kent homestead? Hmmm…_she began scribbling away questions in her notepad and didn't stop until the plane touched down at Singer Airstrip, just outside the Smallville city limits.

Not one to waste any time, Lois collected her luggage and picked up the rental car before driving to the Kidder Hotel in the center of town. She took a quick look around as she drove down Main Street and knew that Smallville was aptly named; there was the hotel, one coffee shop, a 2-screen movie theater, a bookstore, a hair salon, a clothing store, one grocery store, a diner, a bank, the Town Hall and the Sheriff's office, all within easy walking distance. Even most of the store front façades looked antiquated, like they hadn't changed since the 1940's…_I didn't know places like this still existed, _she thought to herself as she parked the car in the hotel lot.

She half expected to find herself the only guest at the inn, but thankfully Lois noted a sign welcoming a wedding party, and learned from the man at the desk that they were occupying the second and third floors. A stranger stuck out like a sore thumb in a place like this, but she hoped she could get away with it by pretending to be an out-of-town guest of the "Lester/Burnham" wedding party if necessary. After Lois signed in, a gangly red-headed boy with a face covered in acne came out from behind the desk to help her with her luggage and take her upstairs. They reached her fourth floor room and she barely had the energy to brush her teeth or take off her shoes before dropping onto the queen sized bed and falling straight to sleep.

* * *

Superman started his fly-by over Metropolis around 11 that very evening, straining his ears for the heartbeats of Jason and Lois. A quick scan of the house on Riverside Dr. showed it to be empty, but not ransacked, so he knew not to fear the worst. Presently he picked up on Jason, and followed the sound to Perry White's high-rise apartment building, where the boy was sleeping soundly in the guest bedroom as the elder man sat in the living room poring over various articles.

_What on Earth is Jason doing here?_ He asked himself, knowing there wasn't a ready answer. _And why couldn't Lois have asked me to watch him? She knows I would have, and gladly too…at least I know he's safe, so I can assume she is as well. Guess I'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find the answer…_and after another fond look through the apartment walls at his sleeping son, Superman sped off into the night to help wherever he was most needed.


	3. Chapter 3

"**???"** A thin muscular man with dark hair and large black eyes bent over a web cam that was set-up in the corner of the ornate, windowless room. He checked and re-checked the wires before settling himself down into the chair beside it, punching codes into his laptop with the greatest of ease. If all did not go off without a hitch then the Boss would be very unhappy, and they all knew what that meant—Ken had met his 'unhappy' end last week for screwing up during the last transfer. He swallowed down the lump of fear that momentarily formed in his throat just as his comrades were entering the room.

Two large, identical-looking bald thugs dragged an unconscious man into the room. Their looped arms were the only things supporting the unkempt looking person in question, as was evidenced by the way his feet trailed limply behind him. They dropped him down in a chair and Lenny chanced a look at their captive. His hair was overgrown and matted with dirt, as was his few inches' worth of beard. The clothes he wore were tattered and caked with a mixture of blood and grime from previous beatings, and the exposed parts of his skin sported several large purple bruises.

But what startled Lenny most was what happened next. Bruce and Guy had been muttering to themselves since they entered—what about, Lenny had no idea. After dumping their victim into his seat Bruce circled behind only to yank him up roughly by the hair; it became apparent that Guy wanted to get a few more hits in. He searched the man's face as Bruce yanked and their eyes briefly locked. The look Lenny received startled him; there was simply no fight left in the man in the chair.

With a heart-wrenching crunch Guy's right fist connected with the man's left cheek, sending him flying off the chair with its force and breaking Lenny's brief eye contact. He felt a shudder creep down his spine.

"That's enough gentlemen."

* * *

_**Smallville,**_** May 17, 2007. **The next morning Lois awoke early…well, early by city standards, and got ready to begin the day researching her farm boy partner's past. A quick breakfast downstairs in what passed for a dining room and a Styrofoam cup of coffee in her hand and she stepped out onto the street and headed straight for Town Hall.

It was a large brick building that looked like it had been erected around the turn of the last century, and it was set apart from the rest of the town by a small patch of green grass. A large American flag flapped in the breeze from the white flagpole that stood in the middle of the green…_how quintessentially American,_ Lois thought as she strolled past. As she shoved her shoulder against the stuck wooden door she discovered that the interior of the old building had been remodeled in recent years to suit the Town's purpose, making room for new offices, creating outlets for electricity and installing cable for hook-ups to the internet. The placard on the wall in front of her listed the various offices located within the building, which she perused until she found the department she was looking for: the Town Clerk's Office followed by an arrow pointing to her right. Lois took off down the hall in that direction.

She opened the door and was greeted by the dinging of an old time bell that hung just above her head on the door frame. There was a high counter in front of her, and behind it were two vacant desks and several sets of filing cabinets. Her sharp eye caught a glimpse of the pamphlets strewn across the counter in front of her; they told of local events, tips for raising livestock, and a bit about the Town's past. The latter she quickly shoved into her purse for later perusal before a plump young woman came out of a room at the other end of the office. She looked to be in her early 30's, with auburn hair styled in a fashion that hadn't been in vogue since the late-1980's, and a bright purple outfit that hurt Lois' eyes to look at.

"I thought I heard that bell!" she exclaimed cheerily, "I'm May Turhewn, and you're not from around here, are you? But of course you're not, it's a small town and I know everybody, so I'd know you if you were from around here. What can I do for you today? Did ya get lost on the way to the Wichita State Fair? It happens all the time…now what you gotta do is…"

Lois was startled by her appearance, not to mention her attire, but quickly regained her reporter's composure and cut her off. "No actually, I'm not lost. I came here to gather some information on the Kent family."

May stopped mid-sentence, a puzzled expression crossing her face. "Now what do_you_ want with the Kents?" she asked, a slight defensive edge to her voice. Thankfully, Lois had come up with a contingency plan on the plane the night before.

"Well you see, I'm a genealogist and I was hired by a Mr. Clark Kent to research his family tree. It's a birthday present for his…"

"…Mother?" May interjected. "Oh he is such a sweetheart! How thoughtful of him! Oh I could just eat him up! You know, Clark and I went to high school together, though he was a year ahead of me. Never was very popular, not like Brad Byrons the quarterback, but Clark was still a nice guy nonetheless…but look, here I am running my mouth off again! What kind of information did you say you were looking for, Miss…?"

"Streete, Ella Streete. Let's see…how about we start with the birth certificates, then any death and marriage certificates for the last 100 years or so, if you have them. It'll give me an idea of where to go from here…" Lois replied. By asking for all the records she could avoid suspicion then if she had just asked for Clark's birth certificate alone; the information would also help her learn more about his parents.

"Why don't you have a seat over there and I'll see what I can wrestle up," May said, pointing to a small table with two chairs in the corner behind Lois. "Actually, before you do that, would you mind just signing in here? It's policy for anyone who comes in here looking at our records."

"S-sure, that's n-not a problem at all," she said, taking the pen May offered her and looking at the blank spot on the page she was supposed to fill in. She got out an L before catching herself, quickly going over it and turning it into an E before signing the rest of her Mother's maiden name to the Smallville Records Registry.

"Thank you kindly, now have a seat and I'll be right back with that paperwork you asked for, Ella." And with that May turned to the filing cabinets around her to help locate all the necessary documents.

Lois took her seat in the corner, her back facing the office, and let out a barely audible sigh. She was used to bluffing and stretching the truth when it came to her informants, but to outright lie to someone so naïve and overly-solicitous as May Turhewn just seemed so…so…_Wrong…what I'm doing here is so wrong,_ her conscience piped up. _But Lois, if we want to get the goods on Kent, we need to keep up this pretence. Besides, if you want to blame someone for your guilt, blame Perry; he's the one that sent you on this assignment anyway. If he'd just given you a story worthy of a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and kept you in Metropolis then you wouldn't have had to deceive anyone! _her lesser scruples reasoned.

She was still busy dueling it out with her conscience when May reappeared and dropped several manila folders in front of her, effectively breaking her out of her reverie. The dust that swirled up caused both of them to cough violently.

"Well," May started to say before she was choked by another cough. "This is…what I've got…so far. More coming," she finished, walking back behind the counter.

Lois brushed away the dust that still floated in front of her and looked at the records. Death certificates, marriage certificates…_Aha! Birth certificates_…she couldn't help but smile to herself as she pictured her 6'4" partner as a helpless little infant and wondered how big he was when he was born.

_Joseph…Hiram…Jonathan…CLARK! Gotcha!!!_ She pulled out the least yellow and frayed looking document from the batch and poured over it eagerly. _Clark Jerome Kent…Mother: Martha Clark Kent, well that's interesting…explains how he didn't get stuck with the name Hiram…Father: Jonathan Joseph Kent…wait, what??_ Her eye fell upon the date May 2, 1977._ But Clark just turned 33 __**last month**__, not 30. Why would he lie about his age?…_She also noted several spaces that were left blank, such as the child's length, weight and eye color, as well as the name and signature of the physician attending the birth.

"Excuse me?" she called out to May after pondering the possibilities for a moment, "I think maybe you grabbed the wrong Kent family file! It says here that my client was born in May 1977 but he told me it was April 1974." Lois got up and waved the birth certificate like a flag. May strode over from her desk to inspect it.

"No no, Honey, you're reading it all wrong. That's the date the document was filed. There's his date of birth…" she exclaimed, pointing to another date on the page.

"So then why the three year delay in submitting his birth certificate? Certainly that's unusual."

"Well it is for most babies but you see that red letter A in the upper right hand corner? That indicates an adoption."

"Cla…my client was adopted? He neglected to mention that," she said more to herself than to her companion as she frowned down at the page.

"Well it's fairly common knowledge around here, though by the way he acted you'd never know it. I don't think he ever once wondered about his real folks; always treated Mr. and Mrs. Kent like the real thing."

"I see," Lois replied, without really seeing anything beyond her own confusion as she turned back to her seat. _How could Clark not mention that he was adopted?_ This omitted bit of her partner's history stung her personally in a way that even she couldn't quite explain. It also led her to wonder what else he had refrained from telling her all these years that they'd been 'friends'.

She continued to scribble notes in her notebook and look over some of the other documents that May had handed her, including a second pile freshly dug up from the back room. He was a fourth generation farmer, his great-grandfather Joseph Kent having purchased the property in 1894 from a Mr. Jethro Wheeler for $250 even, quite the tidy sum back in the day. His grandfather and father had been born on the property, and Clark's parents had married there in 1954…the groom was 21 and the bride was 20.

Then Lois came to the articles of the Kent family past that truly shocked and saddened her; the birth and death certificate of a baby girl born to the couple in August of 1963. They had named her Mary, and she spent less than a day with them before succumbing to her premature birth._He would have had an older sister…_she thought, a tear coming to her eye…_Oh God how awful for his parents! _Two salty drops slid down her cheeks as she empathized with the family she had yet to meet face-to-face._ If anything had ever happened to Jason_…she got even more choked up at that possibility, knowing how close she'd come a couple times when he was younger and still fragile. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind and turned a couple more pages before hitting upon the third most shocking revelation of the morning; Mr. Kent was dead.

Lois pulled out the death certificate for Jonathan Joseph Kent, dated September 19, 1992. The sheet in front of her simply stated that he had died of a massive coronary at the age of 59. The only personal item Clark had on his desk at work instantly popped into Lois' mind; it was a picture of him and his parents taken when he was a teenager, the red barn house and fields framing them in the background. _No wonder I assumed he was still alive. But you know what they say about people who assume…_Lois let her mind wander as she contrasted the family photo with the information presented before her. _Oh Clark, you were only 18 when he died. How awful! _She had arrived in Smallville with the intention of digging up some "dirt" on her squeaky clean partner and was beginning to realize that she was in for more than she bargained for. She was about to replace the certificate back in the folder when a yellowed piece of newspaper fell out. Apparently, a previous Town Clerk felt that Jonathan Kent's death deserved a little more dignity than most and they had included a clipping of his obituary from the _Smallville Tribune_:

**Kent, Jonathan**. A lifelong resident of Smallville, at 59 years of age.  
He is survived by his wife of thirty-six years Martha (nee Clark)  
and son Clark. Mr. Kent died suddenly of a heart attack while  
working on his farm Saturday afternoon. His final moments were  
spent surrounded by his family before succumbing to his ailment.  
A wake will be held on Tuesday, September 22nd, from  
11 AM - 2 PM at McCorgin's Funeral Home in Wellington,  
followed by a Funera service at 10 AM on Wednesday,  
September 23rd. The family have requested a private burial at the  
Smallville Cemetery after the service, but invite all family and  
friends to join them at their home for refreshments afterward._**  
He will be missed by all who knew him in this life--may he  
rest in peace**_.

She re-read Mr. Kent's obituary one more time, then placed it gently back in it's folder before pondering the facts before her. Who knew that Clark Kent, Mr. Gee-That's-Swell himself, had such a sad and lonely past? It was as if the bumbling co-worker she knew in Metropolis was a completely different person from the one represented before her in print.

Lois scribbled a few more notes as she gathered up the documents to hand back to May, all the while wondering what other secrets the small town held in store for her.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Just wanted to put out a brief disclaimer before continuing; I have borrowed aspects of the TV series "Smallville" here, but with noticeable changes. In this Universe Chloe and Lois don't know each other (nor are they related) and Lana does not know Lex Luthor (except for what she's heard on the news), nor was she ever married to him. Chloe also knows Clark's secret, while Lois and Lana currently do not. Sorry if this bums any of you "Smallville" fans out.

* * *

"**???"** "Is it up and running yet?" 

Lenny quickly found his voice. "Almost, Boss, just another minute."

"Good, get it done, we wouldn't want to miss our broadcast now would we?" A sinister smile crept over the older man's features as he made his way toward the center of the room.

Bruce and Guy propped the semi-conscious figure back up into the chair and backed away. The man slid down lower than before, unable to support himself in a simple sitting position.

"And how are we today?" The older man asked in a voice tinged with sarcasm and glee. The younger one in the chair made no move to respond, although it was doubtful if he even had the strength to do so anymore.

The Boss was dressed in an expensive suit of charcoal gray, and he began to undo the buttons on his jacket, revealing the white button-up shirt and black suspenders underneath. Passing the jacket off to his associate on the left, he proceeded to roll-up his shirt cuffs as he circled his prey. He suddenly pulled back a fist as if about to strike, and the man in the seat couldn't help but involuntarily recoil in fear.

"Well I never thought I'd see the day…" he let out, before turning to face the camera with a curious smile on his face.

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, May 17, 2007.** The next morning a man walked out of the elevator with a bounce in his step and headed straight for his secretary's desk. 

"Good morning, Sir," she said, greeting him with a bright smile and his large mug of black coffee.

"Same to you," he replied, taking the mug from her. "Jeanine, I just wanted to let you know that I'm expecting some new business associates to stop in later on this week for an informal meeting. It's very informal in fact, so if they happen to pop by when I'm, say, in the middle of a conference, or on another telephone call, I'd like you to interrupt me and let me know. It's very important that you do this; they can't leave the building without my having spoken to them first. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely, Sir, that won't be a problem." She said as she scribbled a reminder to herself on a nearby notepad.

"Good, good. Thank you very much, Jeanine, I'll be in my office until the 9:30 meeting." He walked away with a large smile on his face. _This__**will**__ work…together we'll __**make**__ this venture work…_

* * *

_**Daily Planet, **_**May 17, 2007. **Clark was anxiously fidgeting in his seat in the bullpen; he'd not heard a sound nor had a sighting of Lois since early yesterday morning and he was anxious to know where she was. Of course, he couldn't just burst into his Editor-in-Chief's office and demand to know her whereabouts without just cause; nor could he explain how he knew that Perry knew where she was because he had seen Jason at his apartment the night before. _Oh the tangled web I weave_… With an elbow on his desk, Clark propped his sagging head up with a fist on his forehead and let out a sigh. 

"KENT! OLSEN! MY OFFICE, NOW!" bellowed the familiar voice.

_Finally! _He gathered up his notepad and pen and shuffled into step behind Jimmy before filing into Perry's spacious office.

"Good you two, get in here," Perry said, ushering them in as the door swung shut behind them. "The Mayor has called a press conference for 10:30 this morning and I want you to be there. My source on the inside hasn't been able to confirm the subject of the speech, just that it's big, so I expect you two to be front and center. Olsen! If you don't get me a decent shot for the front page I'm going to be taking it out of your pay, you hear me?"

The photographer and the journalist sat in their seats, mutely nodding at their boss.

"Well, what are you waiting for? GET GOING!!" he bellowed and pointed to the door. Jimmy bolted out of there without a moment's hesitation, while Clark lagged behind for a private word.

"Uh, Chief, I was w-wondering…"

"Spit it out, Kent, I don't have the time."

"Well, it's just…you see, Chief…d-do you know where Lois is?"

He raised an eyebrow at Clark. "She's out on an assignment I gave her and she'll be back by Monday, if not sooner. Is that all?" he asked without looking up further from his work.

"Uh…uh, y-y-yes Sir, that's a-all. Thanks," and he backed out the door._Well that wasn't very helpful. Here's to hoping she can stay out of trouble for the next few days, at least!_ He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his chair before following Jimmy to the elevator bay as they headed for City Hall.

* * *

Having drained her cup of coffee from earlier in the morning, Lois headed into the little coffee shop she'd noticed on her trip into Town the previous evening. She expected to find a quick little Mom 'N Pop joint but was pleasantly surprised to find a modernly decorated space with the latest music pulsing discreetly through the speakers. She quickly stood in line and ordered a large black coffee with three sugars, no cream, before turning to the wall behind her. Whoever the owner was had taken the time to hang hundreds of photographs of various sizes and ages along the far side of the shop, with bare spots for more pictures to hang in the future. 

She wandered along and stared at the smiling images frozen before her; two old men playing checkers on a front porch, an action shot of a little league game, a Town Hall meeting, a day at the summer fair. Lois' eyes scanned the scenes before her, wondering if she had unknowingly caught a glimpse of Mr. and Mrs. Kent. Her gaze fell on an image of four teenagers; judging by their hair and dress she guessed it was taken in the early '90s, and they all stood with their arms around each others shoulders. _No, that isn't…_

"Coffee?" came a pleasant voice from behind her. Lois whizzed around and came face-to-face with one of the women from the picture. The other woman pointed to the cup in her hand, "Did you want your coffee? You didn't hear Stephanie when she said it was ready, so I thought I'd bring it over and see what was so interesting on my wall over here."

"Oh, um, thank you, thank you very much, Miss?"

"Call me Lana. And you are…?" Lana held out her hand.

Lois took it in her free one. "I'm L…Ella, Ella Streete. I'm just visiting."

"Well it's very nice to meet you, Ella. I own the Talon here, so if you have anymore coffee needs during your trip feel free to stop by; we've_always _got a pot brewing. My good friend Chloe practically keeps me in business with her need for caffeine," she said with a carefree laugh. Lois noted her beauty before in the photograph, but she marveled at how little time had caught up with her in the last fifteen or sixteen years. "So what had you so engrossed…?" Lana let her gaze fall to the framed photo just behind Lois' shoulder. "Oh that is so embarrassing! Darn you, Chloe!" she said in mock anger as she took another step to the picture.

"Is that you?" Lois asked, knowing full well it was.

Lana let out a laugh, "Yes, that's me from back in the day. I don't know what I was thinking wearing my hair like that! Ugh! My friend likes to torment me by sneaking this back up on the wall whenever my back is turned. That's her down there, Chloe Sullivan, and in the middle are our friends Pete Ross and Clark Kent."

Her suspicions now confirmed Lois studied Clark's teenage face. There was none of the sadness she had presumed to find there, yet despite his best goofy grin she still found traces of the loneliness he carried with him. Lana gave Lois an intent look as she caught her studying Clark's face. "Do you know him?" she asked innocently.

Lois nearly upset her coffee cup; being a morally-debatable, hard-nosed, no-nonsense reporter in a place as wholesome as Smallville was becoming an increasingly difficult act to keep up. "N-n-no, no I don't. I was just thinking that he looks like a bit of a goofball." Lana gave a half-hearted smile.

"Well, goofball or no, he is one of the greatest guys you'll ever meet. Clark always had an eye out for everybody; that included his friends, but even a few of his enemies," she took the photo off the wall and motioned over to a nearby table. "You see, he wasn't the chess team kind of guy, but he wasn't exactly Mr. Popular either, and he got teased and pushed around a lot. The football team was notorious for picking on him, especially Brad Byrons. I remember one time, during our Junior year just after the homecoming game, Brad was driving home by himself to get ready for the dance when he swerved to miss a dog that ran out in the middle of the road. Long story short, he ended up upside down in a field in the middle of nowhere, and somehow Clark was the first to find him. With all the grief Brad had given Clark over the years…well, had it been any lesser man they would have just walked by and let him fend for himself, but Clark pulled him out and half-dragged/half-carried Brad two miles down the road to the nearest farmhouse for help."

Lois' jaw dropped at the end of the story, noting the juxtaposition between the lanky teenage boy in the picture and the epic man described to her._Is this really my Clark that she's talking about? Sure he's there in a pinch but heroic? He can barely stand up for more than five minutes at a time, let alone carry a man two miles!!!_ Lana kept staring at the picture, rubbing the frame idly with her thumb, before carrying on.

"Yep, he is a great guy—unlike any other. Clark helped me out during a couple of bad break-ups during those years too. He was always around and had a shoulder ready for you to lean on. We lost touch for a bit after high school; he went off to college while I stayed here to run this place. He works in Metropolis now, as a reporter for the _Daily Planet_, exposing frauds and crime rings and such. In a way, I think he's protecting the people with his words, you know?" A wistful look crossed Lana's face, "Anyhow he pops in from time to time when he's here visiting his Mother. I'm just glad we've been able to stay friends, what with all the time and distance." Lois nodded mutely; this was indeed _her Clark_.

Lana looked a little misty-eyed, seemingly forgetting about the people and things around her, before the sound of a crash from the back room brought her back to Earth.

"Oh geez, look at that, I've gone and talked your ear off and I'm sure you have plenty of things to do!" she stood up quickly and replaced the picture on the wall. Turning back to Lois, she said "I hope you have a nice day, Ella; I'll be seeing you around, and don't forget that the coffee's always on!" And with that Lana walked back behind the counter to help Stephanie pick up the mug she had dropped.

"It was nice meeting you too…" she replied more to herself than to Lana, the gears of her mind churning away, storing all the information she'd just learned. Lois got up a moment later to head back to the hotel to write it all down, and as she passed through the doorway she couldn't help but note the odd chill that ran down her spine…


	5. Chapter 5

"**???".** A beefy looking man dressed in black and wearing a black knit hat sidled over to the broken down looking bar on the docks. Carefully, he picked his way over to a stool on the far side of the room and motioned for a beer. The people in the room paid him no mind, reverting back to their pool games or loud discussions about who had pulled the better job back in the day, save for the man seated next to him. The man only took notice of the figure in black because he'd taken the seat directly on his left, while the rest of the bar stools remained unoccupied.

"Can I help you there, Pal?" he asked with slurred speech, raising his glass to his lips for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, you can. You're Mickey Englewhite, right? The guy who spent a few years upstate for roughing up some cops with nothin' but his fists?"

The man's eyes turned to narrow slits as he eyed the man in black next to him. "Who's askin'?" he hissed.

"Bruce Rossi—you spent some time with my cousin Carmine when you were both in lock-up. He told me I could find you here, said you were down on your luck."

"Yeah, well, not for nothin' but you can tell Carmine that I don't need no charity…" Mickey started to get up and walk away.

Bruce grabbed his arm. "Hey there, Pal, this ain't charity…" but before he could finish the larger man started swinging. Mickey's fist missed his face but made impact with the stool he'd just vacated, causing it to shatter into pieces. _Carmine was right, he is good…and I bet he'd be better if he weren't drunk._

"Look Mic, I got a job for you. It's a one-shot deal, the fight of a lifetime, and it pays well."

The prospect of getting paid to bludgeon someone immediately appealed to Mickey, even in his inebriated state. "How much and who against?" he asked, edging back to the bar in curiousity.

"The Boss said to give you this, but only if you were interested," he pulled out an envelope from his inner jacket pocket and placed it in the man's hands. Mickey forced his eyes to stop dancing with double vision as he looked at the bills and the note enclosed inside. It simply said: "10 percent to retain you, the rest upon successful completion". He figured there was close to $1,000 in there, but couldn't be sure. His eyes darted about the room, making sure nobody else had spotted his windfall, before tucking it into his inner jacket pocket.

"Where do I sign up?"

* * *

_**Metropolis City Hall,**_** May 17, 2007.** A yellow cab deposited Clark and Jimmy on the side of the street opposite City Hall, where a small contingent of press reporters and TV crews had assembled to capture Mayor Dunne's speech. Utilizing tactics that "Mad Dog" Lane would be proud of, the pair snaked their way up to the front of the queue. Jimmy hopped from one foot to the other in anticipation, preparing his camera to get the best shot possible, while Clark felt an eerie sense of foreboding creep over him.

"Hey CK, what do you think the big deal is?" Jimmy asked as he eyed the rival press agencies represented there.

The press bay in front of City Hall was buzzing with energy, and Clark used his hearing to focus in on the myriad number of conversations around him.

"I hear he's going to raise taxes…AGAIN."

"What about the Luthor clean-up, you think that might be what's on his mind…"

"The President is going to be stopping by on his upcoming campaign tour, or at least that's what _I_ heard…"

"I bet Phyllis in Accounting $10 that Dunne'll bore us to death with a speech about potholes. You want in on the action?"

No one around them had anymore of a clue as to why they were there then he did. "I wish I could tell you, Jimmy, but I'm as much in the dark as you are" he replied. The younger man didn't respond, but rather began taking various shots of their surroundings prior to the start of the speech.

The Mayor's Press Secretary, Scott Teague, stepped up to the podium, while a small entourage followed behind, flanking the Mayor himself. A hush immediately fell over the crowd. Teague cleared his throat before addressing the group assembled before him.

"Mayor Dunne has called this meeting today to alert the public to a new threat to the City's and the citizen's safety. In the wake of the New Krypton crisis we all feel that it is in the best interest of the City to INFORM and not to PANIC the people by relating these latest developments to you, and we hope that the press will conduct themselves accordingly. And now, here to speak to you all, Mayor Theodore Dunne," the 40 year old man in the navy pinstripe suit stepped away from the podium, making way for his boss to take his place.

Theodore Dunne, the City's first African-American Mayor, was a fifty-five year old man with a cunning mind and a winning smile; however, today Clark could easily discern that whatever this threat was, it was weighing greatly on the politician's mind. The Mayor took a deep breath and began.

"Citizen's of Metropolis, in the aftermath of the New Krypton disaster you have shown yourselves to be a truly resilient and resourceful community. We all know that Superman saved us from immediate ruin by hurling the landmass created by Lex Luthor into space…" at those words Clark grimaced and rubbed the spot on his back where he still carried the scar from the Kryptonite shiv, "…but it is also because of the efforts of the everyday man and woman that we have been able to rebuild and return to normal as quickly as we have." Clark nodded in agreement; he had done as his Father Jor-el had wished, he led by example, and the people of Metropolis had worked tirelessly over the last several months to follow it.

The Mayor took a quick sip of water before continuing, looking very grave. "I do not wish to disrupt the lives that we have pieced together again in the wake of the crisis, yet recent evidence compels me to do so. It has come to the attention of this office that the criminal mastermind Lex Luthor is once again active in and around the vicinity of Metropolis." The entire press contingent collectively dropped their jaws; Clark alone remained stone faced, though he nearly crushed his pencil to wood chips in his grip. "Authorities at the state and national level have been tracking his movement as best they can, and we're hoping to be able to coordinate our efforts with Superman later on today.

"We wish to bring this information to the attention of the public in order to warn them, and NOT to cause a mass panic. No definitive threats have been made, but given Mr. Luthor's past history we feel that it is only a matter of time." Mayor Dunne readjusted his grip on the podium, and Clark noted the tension in the elder man's face as well as the elevated heart rate that coursed the adrenaline through his body. "I am asking the people of Metropolis to maintain constant vigilance. Lex Luthor is a man of many disguises but one goal…should he be spotted within the City limits we ask that you do NOT take the law into your own hands, but rather alert the proper authorities. A command post has been established here at City Hall to coordinate the efforts in the search for this most treacherous criminal. Mr. Teague will provide you all with the contact information and answer any questions about the Task Force momentarily.

"I want to stress again—DO NOT approach this man should you happen upon him as you go about your lives. He is armed and extremely dangerous. Any developments will be made available to the public if and when they have been verified, and the manhunt will not cease until Lex Luthor has been captured and brought to justice. I wish to thank the Metropolis P.D. and the FBI for moving as quickly as they have on this information, and for coordinating their efforts at this crucial juncture." The Mayor lowered his head a little here, letting out a barely audible sigh before concluding. "Members of the Press, thank you for your time and attention here today. Please direct your questions to Mr. Teague," he finished with a wave of his hand as the younger man resumed his place at the podium.

Jimmy stood next to Clark snapping away with his digital camera, while Clark barely comprehended all that followed the Mayor's speech. _Lex Luthor is back? Why was I…or rather, Superman, not notified sooner of this development? What is he planning? And Luthor knows about Jason, oh God…_his mind wandered over the gruesome possibilities that could arise from that information being in Luthor's possession.

"Hey CK, did you get that?" Jimmy asked, breaking him out of his waking nightmare.

"Uh, get what, Jimmy?"

"The hotline number. It's kind of important."

"Oh yeah, right…" he replied, glancing at another reporter's notepad and absently jotting down the digits. He couldn't focus on the remainder of the press conference, only on how best to break the news to his Mother and the mother of his child of the threat looming on the horizon.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **This is one of my favorite chapters thus far in Searching for Clark Kent. I hope you all enjoy it too!

* * *

_**FBI/MPD Computer Crime Lab, City Hall Headquarters, **_**"???". **"Hey Lieutenant! Lieutenant!! I think we got a live feed here!" The officer shouted to his supervisor.

"You better be right about this…" the older man said as he leaned in behind his green partner, staring at the computer screen. Lt. Al Henrickson would be the first to admit that the technology confused the bejeezus out of him, but when you put hard evidence in front of his face he could track it down like a dog with a scent.

At first the men saw nothing but static, then, suddenly, the snow cleared away.

A man wearing a white button-up shirt (with the cuffs rolled up to the elbow) and gray slacks stood in full view of the camera. "Good Evening, Citizens…" he began, backing away to reveal his semi-conscious captive in a chair.

Al involuntarily squeezed the kid's shoulder at the shocking sight before him, before recollecting himself and barking out orders. "O'Doyle! Fialkowski! Get on the horn and let upstairs know we got a live feed here! Burns, Hammerschmidt, you better be tracing this goddamned signal—every second wasted is a second lost, and you know how these brutes operate! IT'S GO TIME PEOPLE! LET'S MOVE MOVE MOVE!!!!" He stormed out of the room red-faced and left a flurry of activity following in his wake.

* * *

_**Smallville**_**, May 17, 2007.** The lunch hour was approaching, and Lois knew she was being impromptu (not to mention impolite), but she couldn't wait. As her rental car ambled up the drive she caught sight of the old rust colored pick-up truck, the only indicator Lois had that Martha Kent was at home. She parked carefully next to the other vehicle and went over her cover story one more time in her head…_I'm Ella Streete, I'm a new reporter for the Wellington Herald and I'm doing a research piece on raising families in the country vs. raising them in the city…now let's hope Mrs. Kent doesn't ask to see my Wellington Press Pass and we'll be all set…_She took a deep breath, collected her purse, and headed toward the front door.

The quaint Kent homestead was nestled among several acres of farmland, with the nearest neighbor being the Hutchins family, whose home was a tiny black speck off to the West. Her steps creaked as she bounded up the wooden porch steps and she approached the whitewashed door and gave it several large raps. Lois could make out an old-time song playing on a radio from inside but could discern no other movement. She tried again, but still no answer.

As imprudent as her arrival was Lois knew her limitations well enough to stop herself from poking around in the barn in search of Clark's Mother. In the meantime she strode over to the weather-worn porch swing on her left and settled down in it, studying the landscape in front of her. _No wonder Clark always perked up whenever he mentioned 'home',_ she thought to herself as she relaxed with each push of the swing. _It must have been great growing up here as a kid and not being lugged across the country from base to base._ She tried to imagine her partner here, in his element: a young Clark running around in the front yard with a ball, a teenage Clark tending to the livestock, and his parents, a middle-aged Mr. and Mrs. Kent sitting where she sat now, watching their son in the yard. From somewhere nearby a dog issued a loud bark.

"Hello?" came the voice from one of the persons in question. Martha Kent ambled closer to the porch with Shelby by her side in order to get a better look at the stranger; but for an elderly woman living alone she certainly exhibited no fear toward the newcomer comfortably seated on her swing.

Lois jumped out of her seat. "Hello, I'm…"

"Lois Lane," Mrs. Kent replied in hushed awe.

Lois' eyes went wide in equal surprise. "But how…how…how did you know?"

The elder woman tread carefully, not knowing fully what the love of Clark's life and the mother of his child knew with regards to his secrets, nor knowing what she wanted with little old her. Briefly weighing her options Martha replied smartly, "Even us country bumpkins have been known to read an issue of the _Daily Planet_ from time-to-time Miss Lane and I've seen your picture along with your work. I also saw you in Metropolis last September after you visited Superman in the hospital." Both women blushed at their own remembrances of that fateful day. "My only question is how come the whole town hasn't been buzzing with news of the strange city slicker in our midst before now? It's not exactly easy to hide here."

Lois' cheeks turned even redder. "I've, um…that is, I…well my Editor thought…" she shrugged and gave up the pretense, "Well I've been going around under an assumed name."

"Oh!" Martha clearly hadn't been expecting that. "I suppose that's rather clever really." An unexpected thought popped into her head. "Is everything alright with Clark? He's ok, isn't he?" she asked anxiously.

"He was fine the last time I saw him but I think his arm is a little worse for wear."

"His arm?"

"Yeah, he tripped on his way into the elevator yesterday morning and banged it up pretty badly."

"I see." She gave Lois a polite smile and Lois gave her one right back. They both stood uncomfortably on the porch, neither one knowing what to say. Finally, Martha remembered herself. "Was there something specific that brought you to Smallville then, Ms. Lane?"

"Oh right, right, I completely forgot! You see, Mr. White, our Editor at the_Planet,_ sent me here to do some research on Clark for an upcoming human interest story. You may have noticed the one on photographer Jimmy Olsen in last month's…"

"So you're saying you came out here using a fake name to do research on my son?"

Lois stood frozen on the porch, expecting to be admonished by the woman before her. She mumbled something under her breath.

"I'm sorry, Miss Lane, I didn't catch that. Could you repeat that again?"

Through clenched teeth and with eyes trained on the floor she said hurriedly, "I thought I'd come out here incognito and get some dirt on Clark." Lois was not prepared for what next caught her ear…it was the sound of Martha Kent laughing.

"You are a sharp one, Miss Lane! No wonder Clark admires you so…he says he learns a great deal from you too…" her laughter trailed off as she walked past Lois toward the front door.

"He learns from me?" she asked incredulously, following the elder woman as she beckoned her inside.

"Of course, why do you think he enjoys working with you? As his friend he naturally talks about you a great deal…" she countered as she passed through the worn living room and into the kitchen. Martha quickly set to work filling two glasses with fresh lemonade and placing them on the table. Lois watched as the seventy odd year old woman moved gracefully about the kitchen and spoke to her without reservation about Clark. The elder woman reached into a cupboard behind Lois and brought out two plates.

"Now Dear, I'm not sure what kind of 'dirt' you expected to get from me regarding Clark; he is, after all, my son. Surely as a fellow mother you can understand that. Now would you like an egg salad or a cold ham sandwich? I'm afraid I wasn't expecting any company today…" and she pulled open the fridge to rummage through it's contents, pulling out a jar of mayonnaise.

Lois finally re-discovered her voice, "Mrs. Kent…"

"Call me Martha, please, but only if you'll let me call you Lois."

"Yes that's fine, Mrs. Ke...Martha," she paused for a moment. "Wait, how did you know I was a mother?"

"I told you, I saw you as you left the hospital last September after Superman fell. Your son was with you. He has your smile," she kindly replied. _And his father's eyes…_

"You know, Martha, you would have made a really great reporter."

"Would I now?" she chuckled at the thought. "Guess I'll just have to tell Clark he gets his reporter's instinct from _my_ side of the family next time he calls. Now Dear, did you say you wanted egg salad or cold ham? I'm afraid I missed your answer."

"Egg salad is fine, but really, you don't have to feed me, I drove out here on an impulse and I don't mean to inconvenience you…" but Lois could tell that Martha was ignoring her plea as she doled out some pre-made egg salad on the bread before her.

She resumed the conversation, "You asked before what I expected to find here, and I suppose I really don't know. Like I said, I just felt compelled to come out here after everything I learned this morning."

Martha's face dropped a little wondering exactly what she _had_ found out; luckily, her back was to the young woman seated at the table and she took no notice. "Oh?" she asked innocently, "And what did you discover?"

Lois took a deep breath and chewed a little on her lower lip, trying to determine how best to tell her. She opted to rip the band-aid off clean, so to speak, albeit as gently and kindly as she could. "About Clark's adoption…and Mary…" Mrs. Kent stopped working, placing both hands on the counter as she thought about her long-lost daughter. Lois didn't stop "…and Mr. Kent…and Brad Byrons' accident Junior year."

"Well well well…" she said, her eyes moistening a bit before she wiped them with her shirtsleeve. She picked up the finished sandwiches, forcing herself not to look too grieved by the information Lois just gave her, before turning back to the table. "You've learned quite a lot for one morning, haven't you? Then again, Clark always says you're not one to waste any time." She placed a sandwich in front of Lois and one before herself before sitting opposite her at the table.

"I'm so sorry," Lois said, reaching a hand out across the table and taking hold of one of Martha's.

She looked over at her with misty eyes. "Thank you, Dear, that means a lot." They sat there in the quiet of the kitchen looking at one another, communicating with their eyes what was in their hearts. Martha knew now why her Son was so completely enamored by her.

Shelby meandered into the kitchen and nudged Martha's leg, breaking the tension. She looked down at the dog. "I suppose you want some lunch too, do you? Well let's go get your food bowl…" she got up and moved to the pantry beside the fridge. "No need to wait for me, Lois, go ahead and eat up, and after we're through I'll try and answer all your questions." She scooped the kibble out of the bag with the bowl and placed it on the floor in front of the dog when the telephone rang. "Excuse me," she said to Lois as she picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Mom? Oh good, you're there, I'm glad I caught you, listen…"

"Clark, it's wonderful to hear from you!" Lois sat straight up in her seat as she heard her partner's name, the guilty feeling she'd harbored all day growing in intensity. "You won't believe who dropped by the farm today…"

"Mom, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be brusque but I have something really important to tell you…"

"Son, Lois is here." Martha thought the line went dead. "Hello? Clark? Clark are you still there?"

His Mother's words quickly brought him out of his state of shock. "L-L-Lois is there? B-b-but how? Why? The C-Chief said she was out on assignment…"

"Yes Dear, and apparently you were the assignment."

"Oh noooo…" he groaned loudly into the phone.

"Would you like to talk to her? She's right here…" Martha held the receiver away from her and toward Lois, who hesitated to pick it up.

Clark kept talking. "What? NO! Wait! I mean…oh God…"

"Clark?" Lois' voice called out to him from the other end of the line.

"Lois! What are you doing there?!?!" his voice squeaked at her. She'd never heard him sound so desperate before.

She immediately snapped back into sassy reporter mode. "Easy there, Smallville, Perry sent me. Your bio is up for this month's 'Get to Know Your Planet' piece. And don't worry, I've heard nothing but nice things about you…so far…" she chuckled into the phone, as did Martha standing behind her.

Clark let out an audible sigh of relief; he knew his Mother could hold her own against Lois, and the rest of the Town had nothing too unusual to report with regards to him. He was about to beg off when he remembered why he had called in the first place.

"Gee Lois, that's good to hear…hey, um, is my Mother nearby? B-because I have some news you both might want to h-hear before you see it on TV…"

For Clark Kent today was proving to be a real doozy—and it wasn't even half over.


	7. Chapter 7

"**???"** His face was numb. The only way he knew his mouth was even there was due to the fact that the blood from a cut near his eye dripped down to where it hung open and he could taste it on his tongue. The same two thugs that had hauled him out earlier were now in the process of dragging him back again to his dingy prison cell. With a heave the pair managed to pull the door open, toss him in and lock him back up, leaving him once again in the darkness.

One of them had fabricated a special pair of brass knuckles for the occasion. Laying flat on his back he felt for where the pain was sharpest and guessed he had another one or two fractured ribs. _This will take time to heal,_ he thought, _That is, if I __**have**__ time._

Whether he passed out from the pain or not he couldn't be sure, but he came to at the sound of the door opening again. He bore the same hasty retreat into the corner as someone pushed a tin plate and a canteen into the room then slammed it shut. The canteen was what he reached for first, spritzing himself as he tried to wipe the blood off his face before guzzling a large quantity of it in a mad dash to quench his thirst. Next he groped for the tin plate and found that it consisted of a hunk of bread and a weak vegetable soup. Without considering the quality of his meager meal he quickly gulped the soup then crammed the bread down his gullet. Moldy or not, it was the first meal he'd had in awhile.

With his wits briefly about him, he quickly ascertained that the question of his mortality would soon be answered, one way or another.

His stomach satisfied, he felt the severe exhaustion regain claim over him, with his latest revelation echoing in the back of his mind.

* * *

_**Metropolis City Hall,**_** May 17, 2007. **"Good Afternoon, Mayor Dunne's office, please hold," Andrea Stuart said before placing the call on hold and picking up another line. "Yes, Councilman, he knows you're on the line and will be with you shortly…yes I will tell him that, Sir, now if you'll continue to hold he'll be on with you momentarily…thank you." "Good Afternoon, Mayor Dunne's office…no ma'am, this isn't the number to call to report a possible Lex Luthor sighting. Let me transfer you…" A slight breeze ruffled the papers on her desk, yet she failed to take notice. 

"Good afternoon, Miss Stuart," came a man's deep voice from near the open window on the other side of her office. Unfortunately for Andrea she was too engrossed in managing the phone lines to register the man's appearance; her boss' announcement earlier that day had not only increased her fear for her own personal safety (she had been incredibly close to one of the exploding manhole covers during the New Krypton disaster and had seen her life flash before her eyes—an experience she wished never to repeat) but also caused her a greater headache in the office with the never-ending stream of phone calls. Everyone and their mother had seen Lex Luthor in the intervening hours, but none of them had managed to jot down the number of the hotline to the Command Room.

The man tried again. "Excuse me, Miss? I believe I have an appointment with the Mayor."

Still without looking, Andrea reached over and flipped open Mayor Dunne's large appointment book. "Name?"

"Superman."

The young woman let the phone drop to her lap and a very distraught citizen could be heard emanating from the receiver. She looked up at the superhero before her with large eyes and her mouth in an O of surprise. Andrea had seen him and his countless rescue efforts on TV so many times before, but that did nothing to prepare her for seeing him in person not five feet away from.

"Are you alright, Miss?" he asked, trying to break the tension.

"I…I…I…" she stuttered, the confidence and proficiency she had displayed a moment ago vanishing under his gaze.

"You appear to be just fine," he said with a smile, then turned to look intently at the door to her right. The Mayor and a contingent of officials resided just behind. "I'll show myself in if that's alright with you." He strode over to the conference room with a grace Andrea thought men didn't naturally inherit, then knocked politely and entered the room, leaving her as shell-shocked as before.

The Mayor's voice reached him first; he was pushing a button on the phone in front of at the conference table, calling his secretary. "Andrea, I know you're a bit overwhelmed, but I'm afraid I need you to get me the files from…" he caught sight of Superman gently closing the door behind him at the other end of the room and stared in awe at him before remembering his secretary. "Actually, you can forget the files, Andrea. Tell Councilman Pierce I'll call him back later and hold all my other calls. Thank you." He turned to greet his guest, whose presence had now been noted by all others present in the room.

"Superman, good afternoon! We were wondering when you would have the chance to stop by," Mayor Dunne greeted him enthusiastically, getting up out of his seat to walk over and shake his hand.

"Thank you, Sir, I'm sorry I couldn't make it here earlier—I was held up by other business," _Like typing up an article about your announcement this morning so that my Editor wouldn't fire me…__**that**__kind of business…_he thought to himself as he shook the hand offered to him.

"Well we all know why you're here, and I'm sure you have many questions you'd like to have answered, but first let me introduce you to everyone involved thus far. This is my Press Secretary, Scott Teague," the Mayor pointed to the man Clark had seen earlier at the podium.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Teague replied, taking the hand extended to him. "I'm sorry it had to be under such circumstances." Superman pursed his lips and nodded in understanding.

The Mayor continued, "And I'm sure you're already familiar with this man, Chief McEachern of the Metropolis Police Department."

The Police Chief extended his hand, "Good to see you again, Superman; by the way, thanks again for the help with that pawn shop robbery last week. It could have gone very badly very quickly if it weren't for you."

"You had it under control, Chief, I'm just glad I was able to help."

Mayor Dunne then pointed to the new faces in the room. "Superman, I'd like to introduce you to Clarissa Woodrow and Spencer Chase. They're Metropolis-based FBI Agents who will be working in conjunction with the MPD to bring in Lex Luthor."

The female agent stood about 5'7" and looked to be about the same age as Superman. She wore her dirty blond hair back in a ponytail and, he noted, she carried not only a gun in a holster on either side of her under her black suit jacket, but also a single shot piece in a holster by her right ankle. He held out his hand to her. "Do you always pack so much firepower, Special Agent?" he asked slyly.

She looked a little taken aback by the statement before saying quietly, "Oh right, x-ray vision…Yes, yes I do, Superman, and it's saved my life on more than one occasion."

He became very serious again. "I'm sorry to hear that your life's been in jeopardy as often as that, but I'm glad to see you're alright."

"Thank you, Sir," she replied very business-like.

Special Agent Chase's boyish features and olive-colored skin gave him the appearance of a man in his late twenties, but Superman saw by his driver's license that he was actually 39. He stood 6'2" tall and wore a standard issue black suit like Agent Woodrow, and his hair was slicked back, revealing his green eyes and high forehead. Agent Chase could not contain all of his enthusiasm at meeting the Man of Steel, and pumped his hand vigorously; Superman was sure that if it weren't for his invulnerability his arm would have been snapped off by the Agent's efforts. "Sir, it is an honor to finally meet you," he said, both hands holding his one.

"Likewise," Superman replied, carefully extricating himself from the other man's grasp.

"Alright then, let's get started, shall we?" Mayor Dunne said, motioning for everyone to take a seat. The entire table was clear save for one computer which Special Agent Woodrow positioned herself behind. "Superman, where would you like to begin?"

"Well Mayor, I'm torn between two questions to start with. First off, why did you choose to go to the Press with this latest development in the Luthor case first before attempting to contact me, and second, what information do you have that Luthor has resumed his criminal activities here in Metropolis?"

"Sir, I believe I may be able to answer that first question," Scott Teague said, addressing the Mayor before turning to Superman. "You see, Superman, I convinced the Mayor to go public with this information before approaching you. Everyone, yourself included, knows that Lex Luthor will stop at nothing to ensure your death, and he has and will continue to use innocent civilians as pawns to that end. Metropolis is not Gotham, Superman; the moral fiber of the people is stronger here because you are in the picture. The outpouring of aid on your behalf after you fell from New Krypton was on a scale that I've never seen in my fifteen years in the public sector. The Mayor and I are satisfied in the knowledge that the people of Metropolis will exercise caution in their daily lives in light of this news while maintaining a vigilant eye for Lex Luthor for the duration of this manhunt…and no offense to you, Superman, but hundreds of thousands of pairs of eyes at street level can do just as much good as one pair of eyes from a mile up in the sky."

Superman pondered this line of reasoning briefly before speaking up. "I understand, Mr. Teague, it's just that I'm very unused to being the last to learn about potential threats such as this. Perhaps in the future," he said, looking around the table at everyone assembled, "I might be given a slight head's up?"

Special Agent Woodrow spoke up, "Actually, Superman, we were just discussing how best to contact you as information becomes available, that way you won't have to learn about it from the 5 o'clock news. Now, if you wouldn't mind, can you tell me if you can hear this?" she asked, pushing a button on the computer before her. He cocked his head to the side and winced as the noise reached him. She quickly turned it off.

"I'm sorry to have to do that, Sir, but we were unsure of what your audio capacities were. That is a high frequency pitch that we hoped to utilize, followed by a brief message, for future meetings such as this one. This way we won't have to idly stand by before acting on information and you can be a part of the process here on the ground."

Despite the brief shock to his ears, he had to admit that it was a rather ingenious system that they had devised…_it beats Bruce's bat signal, that's for sure…_he thought, suppressing a grin. "Could you try tuning it a couple registers lower than what you've got right now and see if that works? As I'm sure you saw, it was a bit painful before." She fiddled with a few controls on her screen before pushing the button again. This time he heard it without wincing. "Perfect," he informed her.

"But now back to my second question, and that is, how do we know that Luthor is back and a credible threat? What evidence suggests that he's returned to Metropolis so soon after New Krypton? Are you sure that it's him and not another terrorist with a similar M.O.?" _…of seeing me dead and out of the way,_ he finished in his head to himself.

"I'm afraid that's where both our offices come into play, Superman," Chief McEachern said, indicating himself and the FBI. "About six weeks ago an officer in Precinct 12 caught a man selling stolen items out of the back of his truck in the East Side Slums—uh, I mean, Housing Projects. Anyhow, the officer brings him in and books him and the guy starts getting all skittish because he knows it's his third strike. So the crook, name of Billy Stikes, starts talking about anybody and everybody, until he says something that matched a pattern we'd seen starting up.

"A lot of tough guys from the East Side, former henchmen for the Garbellini crime family, along with a lot of no-names with rap sheets as long as my leg, had gone underground. Off the map. No sight or sound of them. You can only attribute so much of that to people moving out of state or going straight before you realize something's wrong. So Stikes starts talking about how he had spent time upstate about five or six years back and how he knew Lex Luthor from there. Then he says that he'd been approached on the street by someone else he knew from the inside who _also_ knew Luthor and said that the Big Guy had something planned and did he want in? Stikes hadn't yet made up his mind when we picked him up, so he didn't know what that something was, but when I got wind of it and began putting the facts together I called up the Director of downtown's FBI bureau, who happens to be a friend of mine, to see what he had to say about it."

Special Agent Chase picked up the narrative from here. "When Director Graham was made aware of the facts he passed that information on to Special Agent Woodrow and myself for further investigation. We turned to the Vanderworth Estate financial records and noticed that an almost imperceptible amount of cash had been transferred out of each of the accounts once a week every week since November of last year. Where that money is going and how much has been siphoned out in total is difficult to say as these were all off shore accounts and we only have so much pull with regards to gaining access to financial records from other countries…even for known criminals such as Lex Luthor. Our best estimate is that some $20 million or so has been safely tucked away in the past several months.

Chief McEachern picked up the ball again. "So you see, once my buddy Roger's people verified that the Luthor threat was a credible one we set out to pick up Stikes again for further questioning. Unfortunately, through some slip in the paperwork, he was ROR'ed, and no one's been able to find him since."

"Which probably means he's in the bottom of the Bay," Superman finished; saying what all of them thought was the most likely conclusion to Stikes' disappearance.

Mayor Dunne cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes, well, after this came to light both the MPD and the FBI contacted me so as to coalesce their efforts in preparation for whatever Luthor is planning. They've set-up a War Room, as well as a Call Center and various other offices, in the basement of the building in order to carry out the manhunt which we hope will swiftly and safely bring Luthor to justice."

Superman's face was very grave as his mind worked over all the details just presented to him. After awhile he spoke up again. "And what has been discovered since you've combined your efforts?" he asked, looking from McEachern to Woodrow to Chase.

"Well, Sir, we uh, we haven't been able to, um, determine as much as we would, uh, normally like, you see, in a situation such as this…" Special Agent Chase replied, stumbling over his words. Special Agent Woodrow chimed in.

"What my colleague means here is that this Luthor is covering up his tracks almost as soon as he makes them. Aside from a diminished criminal population on the East Side and the drawing of funds from several overseas Vanderworth bank accounts we don't know much else for a fact. We've tried to get a few undercover agents recruited but haven't met with any success."

"Uh-huh," the Kryptonian said, knitting his brows. "And you're absolutely certain that he's back in Metropolis? You know that for a fact?"

"No, Sir, we don't know that for a fact," Special Agent Woodrow replied.

"But…"

"Well Sir," Special Agent Chase said somewhat hesitantly. "Metropolis is where you are, and if you're the object of his murderous intent, then where else would he be?"

They all let the logic of his statement hang in the air for several minutes before Mr. Teague shifted in his seat and cleared his throat to speak.

"Superman, now that we've got this all out in the open, do you have anything else you'd like to ask?"

He shook his head no. "I'm sure that more questions will come up as details emerge, but now that I know what's going on I'll be able to work more effectively to uncover Luthor's larger plot before innocent people get hurt. I appreciate how actively everyone is working to resolve this explosive situation and I know that together we'll be able to discover Lex Luthor long before he is able to hurt anyone else," he cocked his head to one side and caught the sound of a fire engine on the other side of the City. "I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me, there's an out of control car fire on Mayfair that looks like it could use some assistance."

He got up and made his way to one of the side windows behind Mayor Dunne at the head of the table and opened it. The sill was two feet off the ground and he floated up easily, turning one last time to those still seated in the room. "Thank you again for all of your hard work…I'm sure we'll be in touch again soon." And with that he soared out of the room, leaving a trail of wind blown paperwork in his wake.

"Well that went well, don't you think?" Special Agent Chase asked of his partner. She just rolled her eyes at him in response and went back to her work.

* * *

ROR is slang for Released on his own Recognizance. 


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Just wanted to reiterate a few points here that I made in an earlier chapter; I have borrowed aspects of the TV series "Smallville", but with noticeable changes. Chloe and Lois do NOT know each other (nor are they related) and Lana does not know Lex Luthor (aside from what she's heard on the news), nor was she ever married to him. Sorry if this bums out the "Smallville" fans with the way I'm tampering with that universe too.

* * *

_**FBI / MPD War Room, City Hall Headquarters,**_** "???". **Lt. Henrickson entered the War Room and all eyes shifted in his direction. His grizzled appearance aged him more than his actual 53 years. The rest of the room took in his aspect before firing off questions.

"Is it confirmed?"

"Yes."

"Any possible locations on the source?"

"Montreal, Tokyo, San Francisco, Austin, Chicago, Vienna, Helsinki…and that's not even the whole list, so take your pick."

"I thought the new tracking methods were implemented after the last broadcast?"

"They were, but whoever is behind the controls is one tech-savvy son-of-a-bitch who's always five steps ahead of us. Depending on the length of the broadcast we may be able to narrow in on the locale more, but that will still leave us with an area roughly 100 square miles around to search—and that's _IF_ they don't bolt again before we can move in."

The frustration and despair in his usually authoritative tone was also noted by everyone and a brief silence hung in the air. Finally, someone asked the question they all dreaded hearing the answer to.

"How long has it been on?" came a quiet voice from the back corner of the room.

"Eighteen minutes…and counting." Henrickson hung his head low as the words left his mouth, and all the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room. They were all bonded by this tragedy, whatever the outcome, and after working together for so long they knew not only when, what and who to ask questions of, but also when to leave well enough alone.

They also knew that the weight of this cat and mouse game would have crushed even mighty Atlas.

* * *

_**Smallville,**_** May 17/18, 2007. **Lois awoke in her hotel room that Friday morning feeling as if she had a bad hangover; she hadn't pulled an all-nighter like that since before Jason was born, not to mention she had to deal with another blue-eyed boys' appearance at her window at 3 am. She shuffled out of bed and headed toward the shower, hoping the soap and hot water would help wake her up enough to go grab a cup of coffee.

After she and Martha got off the phone with Clark yesterday they sat at the table eating their sandwiches in silence, each worried about the implications of the news he delivered. She noticed that Clark's mother kept getting an anxious faraway look and would rub the underside of the worn kitchen table; Lois chalked it up to a nervous habit. She figured Martha was just anxious about her only child living in the City with such a dangerous fugitive on the loose. Lois was frightened by the situation for herself and her child as well, and she wanted to pull a cigarette out right then and there, but she thought better of it when she recalled how disgusted Clark was by the habit.

With Lex Luthor knowing what he did about Jason, she and Superman would have to be extra-heedful in their watch of him until the madman was caught. She kept picturing her beautiful baby boy hurling a half ton grand piano and shuddered at the thought of having to put him in that position again.

The two women appeared to have processed the news by the time they finished their meal and Martha was once again anxious to help Lois with her article. She fished out an old photo album of Clark that contained pictures of him from the time he was three years old up until he left on his soul-searching trek, sharing as many anecdotal stories of her son's childhood as she felt were safe. What Lois didn't know was that she and Jonathan had kept a second photo album of pictures of Clark, only it contained images of his emerging abilities. Martha had taken up amateur photography around the same time that Clark came into his powers, and he and Jonathan had set-up a dark room for her in the basement for her birthday that year, so the family felt secure enough to keep those mementos. As they leafed through the album before them Martha hoped that she'd be able to share the stories that the _other_ album contained with the girl beside her someday soon.

Lois' note book was filled with facts and tales of Clark Kent that his Mother had provided her with. Not only did Martha have a frank discussion with her about the good and the bad of the Kent family past ("Clark was five or six and he snuck a cherry pie that I'd made off the window sill, carrying it away and eating the whole thing! When my husband and I found him he was staked out behind the barn, asleep and covered in berry juice with the pie plate in his chubby little hand!" and "I'm not sure that either of us ever really recovered after Jonathan passed. But my son was my rock in those days and I knew then without a doubt that he would always be a man to be proud of.") but she then had Lois follow her into Town to talk to still MORE people who knew Clark from way back when.

Of course there was the awkward confession over the subject of Lois' assumed name when they got to Lana's coffee shop, but fortunately for her the young woman was quick to forgive and shared a little more about her childhood friend. Lana even went so far as to schedule an appointment for Lois to meet with Chloe Sullivan, her and Clark's mutual friend who was also the Editor of the _Smallville Tribune_.

As she buried herself in her work that evening she could feel all the stress of the last several weeks fall off her shoulders. She had to give credit where credit was due though; had Perry not suggested she write the article on her partner she'd never have had the chance to get away. The destination itself also helped to take the edge off her; no one knew her story, there were no pitying glances or snide remarks behind her back, she was just a friend and colleague of Clark Kent's out here doing her job. Lois missed the Munchkin terribly but had spoken to him on the phone earlier and knew he was having a great time…_Uncle Perry sounded a little frazzled though…he he he…_

The last of the caffeine buzz was beginning to wear off and Lois thought she'd pull herself into bed when she heard a rap at the window. She jumped in spite of herself, knowing only one person who could reach her fourth floor window, and crossed the room to let him in.

"Good evening, Lois," he said in his deep booming voice.

"Same to you," she replied, turning back to clear away some of her work from his view. "How did you know I was here?"

"Well I've told you before, I'm always…"

"…around, right." There was an awkward pause between them. His presence still reminded her of Richard, the good man she let go. It also reminded her of the wall of ignorance that her former lover had erected between them. She could feel a headache coming on.

"So…" he said, attempting to re-start the conversation, "How are you?"

"Oh me? I'm peachy!" she replied mockingly. "Richard is MIA, I have yet to find a new apartment and Jason is still struggling with losing one father while gaining another. Things couldn't be better…"

"Lois, I didn't come here to upset you. If you want me to go…"

"No, I just want you to tell me your name!" she said, before exasperatedly adding, "Why is that so difficult?"

"We've been through that before, you're not ready…you can't handle…" he knew as the words were leaving his mouth that that was the wrong thing to say.

"Can't handle?! Can't handle?!? I don't know if you know this, Mister, but this is Mad Dog Lane you're talking to! There's nothing I can't handle!" she flounced down on the bed dejectedly, her hands covering her face as she tried to regain composure. "I'm sorry, I don't know why it has to be like this between us! It's just that…I want to be with you so badly and there's always something in the way, whether it's a physical or a mental barrier there's always something there."

He was silent for a moment before simply saying, "I know." He reached over and took the idle hand she left on her lap in his.

"It won't always be like this, will it?" she asked quietly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I hope not," he said smugly.

"Good—I want Jason to know his father, his _real_ father, for more than just a few stolen moments at a time."

"You know I want that too."

"I know."

He bent down and kissed the top of her head. They sat like that for a few moments in companionable silence before she let out a loud yawn.

"It looks like I'm keeping you up past your bedtime," he said jokingly.

"No, no I'm…ok, maybe it is a _little_ past my bedtime," as she caught a glimpse of the clock on her nightstand; it read 3:27 am. Before she could say another word he scooped her up in his arms, turned down the covers and deposited her snugly in bed.

He bent down to kiss her on the forehead again but her lips bent up expectantly to meet his. It was a sensuous kiss, full of the passion that had gone unrequited for almost six years, and it took all of his strength to make sure he left the room before their rekindled romance went any further. He broke away and crossed over to the open window.

"Good night, Lois," he called out before taking off.

"Good night…" she remembered saying before drifting off to sleep.

Now she stood alone in her hotel room, her long dark hair wrapped up in a towel as she pulled up her slacks and buttoned up her blouse. She hazarded a look at the alarm clock, something her bleary eyes hadn't allowed her to do properly before.

"Holy crap, I'm late!!!!" she yelped, rushing around the room and gathering her belongings. It was 12:32 pm…and her appointment with Miss Sullivan was at 1 o'clock. _Good thing this __**is**__ a small town…_she thought to herself as she booked it out the door.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Metropolis**_**, May 18, 2007.** Jeanine knocked at the door of her employer's office before entering. He was in the middle of a conference call and held up a finger.

"Yes, I understand, but we're already four weeks behind schedule, Bernard, and that's unacceptable. The Company and I won't stand for any more delays; either you and your crew will finish the job on time or we will hire one of your competitors to finish it for you. Good day." He turned to face his secretary. "Yes, Jeanine, what is it?"

"Well, Sir, the men that you told me would be stopping by are here now, in the waiting area. I thought you'd like to know. Would you like me to bring them in here?"

A smile crossed his features before returning to the calm and stoic demeanor he presented before those in his employ. "No, Jeanine, please show them into the conference room. I will be there momentarily. Thank you."

She closed the door behind her and strode back to where the two men waited. The elder man appeared to be in his 60's and his hair was almost entirely white, which stood in stark contrast to the expensive dark business suit he wore. His associate was his physical opposite in every way; the man was tall and muscular, dressed in black pants, a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket, and he wore his dirty blond hair cut close to his head. The younger man's stance also suggested the possibility of having spent time in the military.

"If you'll please follow me this way gentleman," she said, turning a corner before opening the door on her right to a lavish conference room. Her boss entered from a door connected directly to his office and strode over to his guests as Jeanine shut her door behind her.

"Mr. Finneran, I presume?" the elder man asked somberly.

"Yes, and you are?" he asked, his hand extended in greeting. The gentleman kept his hands clasped on his briefcase before turning to sit down at the table.

"I am Mr. Dobbs, your partner's lawyer, and I am here to enter into the terms of the agreement between the two of you on his behalf. He is, unfortunately, unable to attend, due to extenuating circumstances."

"I understand," Nick Finneran replied, a plastic smile fixed on his face. "And this gentleman is here because…"

"Archie is here because my client desires it, that is all you need to know. Now, shall we get down to business?" he asked, pulling open his briefcase and extracting a large envelope from it.

"Absolutely."

"Very good then. First, if you'll read through this list of instructions here…" he handed Nick several pages outlining the proposition, "…then we'll get down to the semantics of certain crucial elements."

Nick took a pen and a pair of glasses out of his shirt pocket and began scanning the document placed before him. Mr. Dobbs held a copy of the same document in his hands, while Archie stood by the doorway cracking his knuckles. Mr. Finneran spoke up after reading page 3.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with section 13 here. Is there anyway you could get a message to your client about modifying this agreement?"

Mr. Dobbs sighed in his seat. "My client is not in the habit of 'modifying his agreements' in this regard. It is my understanding that he also said as much to you over the phone on Wednesday. I'm afraid I must insist here, on behalf of my client, that there is no room for negotiation." Nick Finneran's face fell a little at the words. He read and re-read section 13 of the business plan, trying to rationalize it in his head, before acquiescing to it and finishing the rest of the document. He signed on the line where Mr. Dobbs indicated.

"Very good, and now if you will be so kind as to review these building plans with me. My client is already constructing a facility in Kentucky, which he plans on financing through your corporation with his silent backing. There are also plans here for a facility in Rordenville as well as…" but Mr. Dobbs was cut off mid-speech.

"Isn't that, uh, a bit close to Metropolis? Wouldn't you rather…"

"Mr. Finneran, once again my client has stated that his instructions are to be followed precisely to the letter in order for this arrangement to work. If you persist in second-guessing him than I'm afraid we will have to withdraw our offer and find another interested party." Archie flexed his muscles menacingly, but Nick Finneran didn't need intimidation to induce him; he already knew that this was going to be a profitable venture, despite the risks.

"No! I mean, no, no you're right, Rordenville is fine. We'll break ground there before the end of business today, if not sooner. Now where else will we be building and what other resources will you need from me?"

"I'm glad to see that you are 'with the program', Sir. Now if you will look at these plans over here…"

* * *

_**Smallville,**_** May 18, 2007.** Lois smoothed down her fly-away hair and put on her most professional-looking face before knocking on Chloe Sullivan's door.

"Come in!" came a voice from inside. Lois pushed the door in and walked into an Editorial office unlike any she'd ever seen before.

On the wall to her left were three large black filing cabinets; there were also three more on her right. Old issues of the _Smallville Tribune_ were tied up in cord and sat in piles around the room, occupying all but two chairs in the medium-sized space. The walls were what astounded Lois most though; there were photographs intermixed with cut-out articles as well as mock-ups for the upcoming issue hanging all the way around the room. A no nonsense woman in her early 30's with shoulder-length blond hair looked up from her crouched position over her desk. She wore a green t-shirt and jeans and had a red pen cap in her mouth, and was furiously marking an article before her. Chloe looked up and locked eyes with Lois.

"You must be Miss Lane," she stated, very business-like. Her tone contrasted her chaotic surroundings.

"And you must be Miss Sullivan."

"That I am. Have a seat here, I'll be with you in just a moment. Andrews!" she bellowed out to the bullpen outside her door. A jittery twenty year old stood in the doorway.

"Yes, Chief?"

"Get in here. Now I have a question for you, a very serious one, and I want you to think about how you're going to respond before you give me an answer. Tell me, Andrews, have you ever _once_ proof-read an article you've written before handing it in to me? Think about that now…" her green eyes locked onto the wide brown ones of the boy.

The youth just gawked for a moment before quietly replying, "Y-y-yeeesssss…." Lois looked over at him and felt a mixture of pity and hilarity at the situation; sympathy for the budding journalist being taken to task by his Editor, cheer at the fact that she wasn't in Andrews' position. Chloe narrowed her eyes on him.

"Uh, I mean, that is, um…no?"

"I thought not. Crack open that dictionary you have propping up your desk…didn't think I saw that, did you?...and learn how to spell properly. There isn't a k or an i in 'refracted', got it? Now get back to work, and if you're still stuck, ask Murphy to help you out," she thrust the papers, now riddled in red ink, back at the young man who beat a hasty retreat to his desk. Through the closed doors Lois heard a loud thud followed by a choice curse word and a few chuckles coming from the bull pen. She stared at where the boy had just been.

"As you can see," Chloe began, sweeping over to her chair behind the desk, "This may not be the _Daily Planet_, but we still print quality news here."

Lois turned to her with a serious face. "I'd expect no less, Miss Sullivan."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Miss Lane, but flattery won't get you far in my office. I'm only agreeing to this interview as a favor to Lana and also to ensure that you haven't gotten any wrong ideas about Clark."

"You're doing this interview because your friend at the Talon promised you a free cappuccino everyday for a week if you agreed."

Chloe was a little taken aback at that remark; although it was true, she hadn't realized that Lois was anywhere near Lana when she made her request. The Editor's rough and tumble demeanor abated a little and both reporters cautiously lowered their guard. Lois clearly saw that she had found Perry's female, country counterpart in the guise of Chloe Sullivan.

"You heard that, huh?"

"It's a small town…" Lois replied, a small smirk on her face.

"And getting smaller everyday," the other woman replied wistfully. "But enough about why I agreed to do the interview, you're here now so let's get started. What else do you want to know about Clark? I have it on good authority you talked to most everybody of importance yesterday."

The City reporter flipped open her notepad. "Everyone I spoke with yesterday had nothing but wonderful things to say about Clark; except for the occasional comment from his mother about some childish misdeed or other I haven't heard one bad word about him. Now I've worked with him side-by-side for several years before his sabbatical and since his return, and I know he's a good man but he can't be perfect. Doesn't he have one single vice or weakness?"

_Oh yes,_ Chloe thought, _he has a soft spot for a certain tenacious female reporter and an avid aversion to Kryptonite, but his biggest weakness is…_ "He cares too much," she replied abruptly.

"Excuse me?"

"You asked what Clark Kent's weakness is, and it's that he cares too much."

Lois continued to look across the desk at Chloe, perplexed.

"I know you've heard about the Brad Byrons incident, not to mention a host of other laudable feats of Clark's, but I'm going to tell you one more. When we were 17, Clark and I had a huge fight—it doesn't matter now what it was about, but I refused to speak to him. Two weeks went by and we hadn't said a word to each other; I was positively awful to him. Well I was in the bank on a Thursday afternoon when some punk walks in with a gun to try and rob the place. Can you imagine anyone dumb enough to rob the First Bank of Smallville? With all the loans extended to area farmers this idiot would have been better off stealing the plastic plant Doris kept on the counter. So he walks in, ski mask on, and starts waving a gun in my face.

"The guy starts yelling at me to get down on the ground but I am just too panicked to even hear what he's saying. So I'm still as a statue, everyone else is on the ground and Doris is crying buckets and pleading with him from behind the counter. He takes the butt of the gun and makes like he's going to hit me with it when Clark appears_out of nowhere_." Chloe paused momentarily, realizing how suspicious that last part sounded, then changed tactics. "Well, I mean, it wasn't from out of nowhere really, he must have just been walking by and seen me inside and seen the whole thing happening but I just didn't notice because my eyes were trained on the gun. So without even thinking about the consequences to himself Clark rushes in and grabs the guy from behind. Before he was able to force the creep to the ground a shot goes off and that's when I snapped back to reality.

"I thought my heart was going to stop; Clark was sprawled out on top of the guy and it didn't look like he was moving. I just started crying, thinking how I'd lost my best friend and how stupid I'd been not talking to him for all those weeks when suddenly he stood up, dusted a little plaster off the top of his head and walked over to me and hugged me. That's just the kind of guy Clark was and is.

"It turned out that the shot that went off went through the ceiling before both of them collapsed to the floor. The other guy hit his head on the way down and stayed unconscious until the Sheriff showed up, and that took awhile because he and his Deputy were off settling a dispute between Mr. Scopes and Mr. Jordan on the other side of town. Clark just held me close until they came; he didn't say anything or do anything, he just kept his arms wrapped around me until the Sheriff asked if I would be able to answer a few questions. Clark even hung around outside the bank and walked me home when they were all through. After I'd been so terrible to him, and even with a gun involved, he was still there for me, looking out for me when I needed him most.

"So you see, Miss Lane, Clark Kent's greatest weakness is that he cares too much."

Chloe leaned back in her chair and stared out at the wall behind Lois' head for a moment before remembering herself and turning to her guest. She needn't have bothered; Lois was still in a mild state of shock.

"I…just…" she choked on her words. "Wow."

"Yeah, wow indeed. Folks seem to remember the Brad incident better for some reason though; guess it boils down to the fact that he was the football darling at the time and football is everything to this town."

"Uh, thank you, Miss Sullivan, for sharing that story with me. I imagine it wasn't easy, thinking about everything that happened."

"You can call me Chloe, and you know what they say, time heals all wounds. Besides, I'm sure working in Metropolis you've been in worse scrapes than that," she said as nonchalantly as she could.

Lois squirmed a little in her seat, "I guess you could say that."

Chloe chuckled uneasily. "So, did you have any other questions for me?" She could see that Lois was hastily scribbling something down in her notepad.

The other woman looked up from her writing. "Actually, I think I'll take a quick look around in your archives if you don't mind. And I really do appreciate all your help."

"Glad to be of service," Chloe said, standing up and extending her hand across the desk. "Andrews will show you where we keep the archives. Just out of curiosity, when do you plan on heading back to Metropolis?"

"Soon, I hope. Not that it hasn't been great being here, but I miss my son…" Chloe gave her a quizzical look. "Jason. He's five and a half and he's staying with his Uncle Perry while I'm out here. Just a couple more stops to make here in Town and then I'll be heading home to see him."

"Well I'm sure he misses you too. Take care, Lois, hopefully we'll see you around Smallville in the future."

"Thanks again for all your help!" Lois said as Chloe released her hand. She grabbed her bag and made her way out the door and let Andrews lead her down to the archives room—there was one more stop she had to make before heading back to the hotel to pack, and then she'd drive to the airport to drop off the rental car and catch a flight for home and her boy.


	10. Chapter 10

"**???"** Lenny carefully dismantled and packed up the equipment and placed in it's carrying case on the off chance that they'd have to pick up and relocate again in a hurry. The first time they'd had to vacate the premises they'd been unprepared, and valuable paraphernalia had been left behind in their haste. Their Boss had had the funds to have them replaced, but he drilled it into them to be better prepared to leave at a moment's notice in the future.

His eyes kept darting to the bloodstained spot on the floor in the center of the room where the chair and it's occupant had been some forty-five minutes earlier. The Boss had ordered Bruce to mop it off but the thug was working on his own schedule. _He's probably doping up in his room getting ready for another round…_he thought as his eyes feel to the blood on the floor yet again.

"Getting a bit squeamish there, Leonard?" the man in the suit asked as he strolled back into the room. His white button-up was splattered and stained in places, while his knuckles were beginning to swell; there would surely be bruises tomorrow, but the man didn't care about the consequences.

"No…no Sir, not at all."

"Good good, we wouldn't want that now would we?"

"Absolutely not, Sir."

"And you've packed the tools away! It's good to see that one among you has more brains than a bread basket…" Lenny grimaced at the backhanded compliment and moved the cases to the corner of the room near an exit.

"Will that be all, Sir?" he asked as the man strolled toward the liquor cart and poured himself a brandy. The amber liquid splashed around inside and he sipped it before raising the glass to his lips. The fiery sensation flashed down his throat and brought a menacing smile to his lips.

"Yes, Leonard, that will be all thank you…" he replied, dismissing him with a wave of his hands before turning to the flat screen TV nestled amongst the bookshelves. Lenny walked out of the room as the sounds of a Channel 9 news bulletin blared back at him.

* * *

_**Daily Planet,**_** May 18, 2007.** Clark stretched out in his chair and eyed the clock. Seeing as how it was a 5:30 on a Friday and not many other people were around he thought he would head home, fix himself a quick dinner then go out for a tour or two of duty before calling it a night. He was debating over where to stop off to get some food when the ding of the elevator caught his attention. He looked over hoping to see Lois but instead saw an impeccably dressed Perry White carrying a small duffel bag and holding Jason by the hand.

"Oh good, Kent, you're still here, look I'm glad I caught you," Perry said somewhat distractedly. He looked like the Chief but Clark quickly ascertained that he was not acting like himself at all. "I forgot about this fundraiser at the Art Museum that I have to go to—I'm representing the _Daily Planet_ after all, and I can't back out, especially at the last minute, but I have no one to watch Jason. Listen, Kent," he looked around suspiciously before leaning in and saying in a barely audible whisper, "I'm desperate here. I can't take him to a black and white affair and I can't leave him home alone. Damn me for sending Lois out of town this week of all weeks! Can you please take him? It's only for the night, and I know you've looked after him before…"

"Sure Chief, it won't be a problem."

Perry stared back at the young man in astonishment. "Really, that easy huh? You know, lesser men would have milked it for all it was worth, but you…well, thanks a lot, Kent, thanks a lot….you've really helped me out between a rock and a hard place. I'll get in touch with Lois and let her know he's with you—I only hope the message gets through, her cell phone reception hasn't been that great. Anyhow, here are his things, and I'll call you tomorrow around lunchtime to arrange a pick-up time if that's ok with you."

"Absolutely," Clark replied, his back to Perry as he knelt down to Jason's eye level. "How about you come home with me tonight, Kiddo, what do you say to that?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed the five year old enthusiastically.

Clark slung the miniature duffel bag Perry handed him easily over his shoulder, then scooped up his son in the other and grabbed the briefcase on the desk. He walked over to the elevator bay with such confidence and grace that the Editor-in-Chief almost did a double-take, his stride and stance were that un-Clark like.

"Thanks again, Kent!" he called out to the two of them as Clark put Jason down and they entered a waiting elevator. Then, under his breath, Perry muttered "I owe you one."

Clark caught the comment and grinned in spite of himself. He turned to his son, asking, "So, what do you want to get for dinner tonight, Jason? Have anything in particular in mind?"

The boy thought for a moment before crying out "Burritos!" He was swinging their locked hands back and forth and looking up at his Dad with smiling blue eyes and a grin on his face. It filled Clark's heart to the brim.

"Burritos it is then," he replied, an equally endearing smile plastered to his face as well as the bell rang and they stepped out into the _Daily Planet_ lobby together.

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** May 19, 2007. **Lois' flight landed very early in the morning that Saturday, and she hailed a cab and headed directly to her house so she could get to work on the article. Perry still had Jason and besides, he didn't know she was back, so she could really devote herself to the piece for several hours or even a whole day if she needed to.

Fortunately for her she had outlined and written a good portion of the story in Smallville and on the plane ride home, so she finished typing around 5 am. Now all she had to do was get some sleep, then surprise her Editor by picking her son up a day early, and finally proof-read the article and have it ready first thing Monday morning. _Piece of cake…_Lois thought to herself as she went over her mental To-Do list. She made sure the shades were drawn tight and crawled into bed.

Lois unexpectedly woke herself up out of a deep sleep around 10 am. She groaned as she saw the time and thought about rolling over and catching a few more hours' worth of zzz's but decided against it. Instead she pulled herself out of bed, turned the coffee pot on, and then stepped into the shower. _Damn I'm productive today!_ she reflected to herself, a smile crossing her features as she turned to face the shower head.

She pulled into the guest spot in the garage underneath Perry's apartment building and rode up to the 15th floor in silence. _I really should make a habit of calling first_, she chided herself with as she strode down the hallway. Knocking boldly on the door, she casually crossed her arms in front of her chest and waited. Perry kept the chain on and opened it to see who was there. "Lois?" he asked groggily.

"Hi Chief," she replied. He closed the door and released the chain before re-opening it and letting her enter. Perry looked about as disheveled and out of character as Lois had ever seen him; what little hair he had left on his head stuck up in a cowlick on one side, his shirt was half-tucked into his trousers and he had dark circles under his eyes. Lois wondered if Jason was the culprit of his tiredness.

"I hope Jason hasn't been too much trouble for you…I really appreciate you watching him and all, but next time if you give me a little more warning I'll be able to find a more suitable long term sitter."

Perry appeared to be having a hard time catching on. "Jason?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Jason, my son…" she took a quick look around the apartment. There were no little shoes kicked off in the hallway, or toys strewn about…the only evidence that he'd been there somewhat recently hung with the pictures on the refrigerator. Knowing Luthor was out there and that he knew Jason's secret she became almost hysterical, "PERRY WHERE IS HE?!? WHERE'S JASON!?!?" she cried, grabbing his shirt collar roughly. The screaming and the grabbing woke Perry out of his drowsy, semi-drunken stupor.

"Lois, I had a function last night…forgot all about it until the last minute…"

"Listen to me, Perry, I don't care, just tell me where Jason is!"

"HE'S WITH KENT! He agreed to watch him for the night." That seemed to do the trick as she relinquished the death grip she had on his shirt.

"Honestly, Chief! And with Lex Luthor on the loose too…" she was speaking more to herself than to him at this point, "You can't just pass my son around like a hot potato just because it's inconvenient to you! Geez!!!" And with that she stormed out of the apartment and back down to the garage to head over to Clark's. Perry stood stunned in the middle of the living room, only partially registering what had just transpired. He clasped a hand to his aching head.

"I shouldn't have let Miranda from the _Messenger_ keep offering to refill my drink last night," he said to no one in particular before going to lock the front door and shuffling back to bed.


	11. Chapter 11

_**FBI/MPD Computer Crime Lab, City Hall Headquarters, **_**"???"** "How can people be so repulsive? So cruel? So inhumane?"

"I don't know how many more times I can watch this…"

"I think I'm going to be sick…"

A crunching sound emanated from the computer speakers and all three simultaneously flinched and averted their eyes. Lt. Henrickson re-entered the room in time to hear their comments and see their reactions.

"ENOUGH OF THAT, IT'S TIME TO MAN UP, THE LOT OF YOU!" he bellowed from behind them. They jumped in their seats at the shout and turned to face him.

"Sir?" one of them asked, confused.

"All of your flinching and squirming is not going to help this man! You need to buck up! You're some of the best Techs the MPD has to offer, so start doing your jobs! It's been 72 minutes since that broadcast and you haven't been able to tell me anything of much use," he spat out at them before their disheartened countenances. That was when Henrickson did something he hadn't done much of until recently; he softened up a bit. "Look, I know it's painful to watch…why do you think I'm not in here? But we need you to look beyond it for other clues, help us narrow in on them before they take off again. What else can you see or hear? A bird, a train, a newspaper…there's got to be something on that tape to help us find him for crying out loud!" He ran a hand through his rapidly graying hair, displaying his own frustration with the case.

Finally, one of the men moved and put a hand on the shoulder of the man with his hand on the mouse. "Burns, why don't we start from the beginning, ok? Rewind the footage and let's really try and focus now, alright?" he asked of his colleagues beside him. Burns did as he was asked, and all three of them tried their hardest to make out a sound or a catch a sight of something out of place; but then again, the whole scenario playing out before them was out of place.

By the third heart wrenching scream Al couldn't take it anymore and slipped out of the room. He knew they had a difficult task ahead of them, but he hoped they'd come through with some hard evidence for them to work off of. As another tortured scream escaped the computer speakers and echoed down the hallway Lt. Henrickson couldn't help but quicken his step.

_We're all going to need some major psychological counseling by the time this is over,_ he thought as he strove to get out of hearing range.

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** May 19, 2007.** "Clark? Clark, it's Lois, please let me in!" she called out, knocking loudly on the door. He hastened away from the counter where he and Jason had been making brunch to let her into the apartment. They had gotten up early and gone flying, watching the sun rise and rise and rise all over the country, before returning home with rumbling tummies. He had been amusing Jason by making heat vision toast before this unexpected interruption.

"L-L-Lois, what are you d-doing here?" he stuttered as she pushed her way past him into the apartment. "Perry said you weren't coming back until Sunday."

"Now there's another country heard from," Lois muttered half under her breath. "I am so mad with him I could spit." Then in a much louder voice she called out "Jason, Sweetie, where are you?" The boy came running around the corner with jam on his face. "Hi Baby," she said, bending down to kiss the top of his head as he wrapped his arms around her leg. _The way he looks right now…it feels vaguely familiar…_

"Hi Mommy! Guess what we're doing? Mr. Clark and I are makin' brunch and I'm in charge of puttin' jam on the toast. Want to see what a good job I did?" he asked, trying to drag her back with him into the kitchen. Clark smiled at the sight.

"I'm sorry, Baby, but we have to go home, we've imposed on Mr. Clark long enough," she glanced over at him as she said that and mouthed 'I'm so sorry' while trying to relinquish the hold their son had on her arm. Clark quickly intervened.

"No, Lois, really, it's ok, there's plenty for everyone and you really s-should see what a big help Jason's been in the k-kitchen…isn't that right, Little Guy?" he said, walking over and tussling the boy's hair.

"Yeah, Mom, come on! Mr. Clark says I'm even better than you when it comes to cooking, isn't that right, Mr. Clark?" the boy asked innocently. Clark felt his face flush to the shade of the cape hidden in the back of his closet.

"Oh is that so?!" Lois replied in mock disbelief. "And here I was going to invite you over for dinner next Friday night as a thank-you, but now I'm not so sure." She winked at him teasingly.

"Oh! Well, I, uh, that is, I wouldn't want t-to inconvenience…"

"Nonsense, Clark! It's the start of a long weekend and it'll be a good chance to unwind after the Friday push to press."

"Yeah, Mr. Clark, you should come!" Jason exclaimed eagerly, taking Clark's hand in his free one while still maintaining a tight hold on Lois.

"Well, alright…if you b-both insist…" he said, barely able to contain the wide grin that threatened to encompass his face.

"Good, then it's settled. Besides, you might be surprised, I have a few tricks up my sleeve when it comes to the kitchen that don't involve dialing for take-out."

"Oh really?" Clark asked mockingly.

"Really!" she said, lightly punching him in the shoulder. _Man he must work out…his bicep muscle is really hard!_ she thought before catching the brief look of fear that crossed Clark's face. She changed the subject. "You know, the way you are around Jason, I'm sure you'd make a great father someday, Kent," she said rather off-handedly. Without waiting for a reply she turned to her son. "So what's this I hear about toast with jam?"

Jason dragged them both into the kitchen, chatting away. "Mr. Clark makes it _real_ special, but I put the jam on it that makes it taste extra good…" Clark's face went wide with surprise, which quickly turned into a grin as he entered his kitchen with _his_ family…even if they didn't all realize it yet.


	12. Chapter 12

"**???"** Lenny was walking back down the hallway after stopping in the kitchen for a bite to eat when he first heard the deep booming voice moaning from behind the cell door. He knew they'd really done a number on the guy the last time they took him out, but he hadn't expected to hear such pitiful cries coming from him now.

He paused for a moment and listened to the low murmuring and groaning before opening up the small observation window cut into the door to get a better look. The man was on his back, alternately rolling and convulsing in his sleep, and Lenny could see the huge purple bruises that dotted the arm closest to the light from the window. The marks were so bad and so deep that if it weren't for their unnatural color one might guess it was his natural skin tone.

"No….no…**PLEASE!**...**AAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!**"

"LENNY!" Guy yelled out at him from the other end of the hallway. Lenny quickly slammed the window shut and jumped back guiltily; he heard the prisoner awake at the sound and scurry away from his spot on the floor.

"What're ya doin' ya moron?! You know you're not s'posed to go near 'im!" Guy bellowed again, walking over to him and smacking him upside the head. They scuffled briefly in the hall before stepping apart from each other.

"He was muttering something…I just wanted to hear what he was sayin', that's all."

"Yeah, well make sure to stay away in the future, else I'll be sure and tell the Boss you're breakin' ranks!" he said before continuing on his way.

Lenny exhaled slowly and leaned against the wall opposite the door. He shot one more look at it before shaking his head disapprovingly and moving on back to his room.

* * *

_**Metropolis Street Vendor, **_**May 22, 2007.** Perry had gone over the article Lois impertinently submitted to him on Monday morning, disregarding the attitude she was giving him (and which, he knew, he rightly deserved) and remarked on how exceptionally well-written it was. He ordered it put in the lower left hand corner of the front page of the Tuesday morning edition and continued on the top middle of section B page 12. 

Clark hadn't asked Lois about the piece since he found out she had been in Smallville; things were going so well between the two of them at the moment he hadn't wanted to jeopardize it by questioning her work. So it happened that a newsstand vendor on the corner of 5th St. and Harris Ave. felt an extremely forceful gush of wind rush past him very early on Tuesday morning and discovered 75 cents jingling where they fell on his counter.

"**Get to Know Your Planet: Meet Clark Kent"**

**By: Lois Lane**

"Many of you out there are familiar with the name Clark Kent; his byline has accompanied several major news stories published by this periodical in the early part of the last decade, prior to his five year sabbatical. That said, not many people truly know the man behind the name, and that is why I recently traveled to his hometown in an effort to learn more about my colleague.

Clark Jerome Kent, Daily Planet reporter with seven years total experience, is not a native son of Metropolis; rather, he was raised in Smallville, Kansas, the adopted son of Jonathan and Martha Kent. I asked Mrs. Kent to give me a glimpse into her son's early years.

'The day he came into our lives was the happiest Jonathan and I had ever known. Clark was good natured even as a kid, though a bit of a mischievous streak would pop out now and again,' she said, positively beaming as she spoke of her only son. 'He was naturally inquisitive too. One day when he was about four or five he climbed into the chicken coop to see what kind of a home they made for themselves, and he nearly startled them all to death! They wouldn't lay eggs for a week. Lucky he didn't get pecked too hard for his trouble, but after that incident Clark and the chickens got along fine. It was just his way; he had to go see everything for himself.'

Meanwhile, the inquisitive child grew into a teenager who became a familiar fixture at Smallville High and within the Town itself. He got his first entrée into the reporting world as a news writer for the school paper, the 'Torch', along with his friends Pete Ross and Chloe Sullivan. 'We both knew Clark was curious about everything but it was Chloe who had a nose for news,' Mr. Ross informed me via telephone from Colorado, where he lives with his wife and two children (Miss Sullivan, whom I also spoke with, is currently the youngest-ever Editor of the "Smallville Tribune"). 'She was always the one that went looking for trouble. No, I shouldn't say that, she went looking for a story and trouble inevitably seemed to find her. Clark either got dragged along by her or he happened to be in the right place at the right time…as it turns out, not only did he like the investigative aspect of journalism but he was good at conveying his findings too. I think Chloe's been trying to recruit him back to working for her ever since we graduated!'

In addition to dipping his toes in the journalistic pool Clark also made a name for himself as a local hero. During his junior year at Smallville High he aided quarterback Brad Byrons in the wake of a car accident that left the latter man overturned in his truck on a little used country lane. "He brought that boy two miles down the road to my farm," Mr. Pollock told me as we stood in the grocery store, "Then knocked polite as anything and asked if he could use my phone. And this with that unconscious fellow in his arms to boot! That Kent kid was something alright." His bravery also manifested itself during the one and only robbery attempt on the First Bank of Smallville, in which his friend Chloe Sullivan was one of the hostages. "[The would-be robber took the butt of the gun and made like he was going to hit me…when Clark appeared out of nowhere! So without even thinking about the consequences to himself he rushed in and grabbed the guy from behind. Before he was able to force the creep to the ground a shot went off. I thought I'd lost my best friend! Suddenly Clark stood up, dusted a little plaster off the top of his head and then walked over to me and held me. That's just the kind of guy Clark was and _is_." Lana Lane-Grigsby, longtime friend and owner of the Talon Coffee Shop agreed. "Clark Kent is one of the greatest guys you'll ever meet. He always has an eye out for everybody…and a shoulder ready for you to lean on."

Unfortunately, during the Fall of his senior year it was Clark who would need the support; his father, Jonathan Kent, passed away of a coronary while working on the farm. His family was right by his side. "It was sudden-like," Mrs. Kent recalled later on in our interview. "And to this day I don't think either of us has ever really recovered from the shock of it. But my son was my rock in those days and I knew then without a doubt that he would always be a man to be proud of." When asked about that time in his life, the man in question simply shrugs his shoulders and tells of how friends and neighbors in the 2700 person farming community helped both him and his mother cope with the loss.

Fifteen years later and the young farm boy from Smallville has made a name for himself here in the Big City. Many of us around the office know Clark to be a humble person, someone who is more likely to accidentally dip his tie in his coffee or trip on his own two feet on his way to the conference room. Until recently we never knew about the transplanted hero we had working in our midst. His gallantry, however, is no longer displayed solely through his actions; his writing here at the_Planet_ has garnered him praise on par with Superman, with former MPD Chief Beckham once hailing him "…the hero of this City's citizens" for his work. He has worked tirelessly, both before and after his sabbatical, to spotlight the corruptions and scandals that plague Metropolis; his most notable pieces include the exposure of the Garbellini Family drug smuggling ring in 1999 and the Ergomex Fraud Scandal of 2001, for which he won a Kerth Award. Now that he has returned to work the people of Metropolis can breathe a little easier, knowing that they have such a dedicated professional working on their behalf--and rest assured that Clark Kent _will _be looking out for you each and every day through his by-lines on the front page of the _Daily Planet_."

He sat back in the kitchen chair in his apartment, the paper spread all around him, wearing a surprised but pleased smile on his face. He had been expecting more snark about his farm boy roots from the likes of Lois, but not this; in fact, the tone of her piece about him sounded vaguely familiar. Clark tried to place his finger on the feeling.

_It…it almost sounds like her interviews with __**Superman**__ used to sound back in the old days before I left._ He placed the paper down in front of him at the realization; _Could Lois be seeing me, __**really**__ seeing me, for the first time?_ he wondered. The phone on the wall rang, causing him to leap out of his seat and lose his train of thought. The clock on the stove said it was barely 6 AM. _Who on Earth could be calling me at this hour?_ he asked himself as he picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Clark?"

_I should have known..._his face broke into a grin. "Hi Mom, how are you?"

"I'm good, Son, I'm good…listen, I just finished reading that article that Lois wrote about you," she said cheerily into the phone.

"Oh yeah, what'd you think?"

"I think you better watch your step, Son. It sounds like she's coming dangerously close to loving the man **AND** the super-man."

He paused, her words resonating in his ears…_**loving **__the man __**AND **__the super-man…_Clark's grin went wider as he replied, "I think so too, Mom…I think so too…"


	13. Chapter 13

_**Atlantic Ocean—15 to 20 miles off the Metropolis Coast**_**, May 25, 2007. **Sven looked out over the edge of the boat, his eyes attempting to permeate the dark blue-green water below as he sifted through his thoughts. He had arrived in the country four months earlier from the Netherlands and never imagined he'd find himself back on a fishing vessel, let alone making a living hauling in _rocks_. His cousin Carl, who had been living in Metropolis for the last three years, had got him the job after he started having a hard time making ends meet while working as a dishwasher. Sven didn't know much English, so Carl took it upon himself to explain the situation to him.

"You see, Cousin," Carl started, "It works like this. We go out with the rest of the boats like we are collecting fish, only we hang back and drag a different kind of net to get the rocks like this," he mimicked the dragging of the net, "And these Americans will pay us big money! $1000 when we go out and $1000 when we come back, every time! It is easy money, Sven! Think of how much help you could give your parents with that kind of cash!"

"I don't know," Sven replied hesitantly. "What do these people want with rocks? They aren't useful like fish, you can't eat them, so why waste so much on pieces of the sea floor?"

"That is not for us to ask, Sven! We go out, collect the stuff, bring it back and get paid; that is all. What else is there to think about? Or do you like washing dirty dishes for a measly $5.75 an hour?"

He thought about it a moment longer. "Alright, I'll do it," he said. Carl grasped his hand and shook it in an enthusiastic fashion.

"Good, we meet at the pier at 4:30 tomorrow morning…now let's pack and get some sleep while we can."

That conversation had taken place last Saturday and by Sunday morning their ship was headed out to sea. A few Russian, Portuguese and Mexican immigrants comprised the rest of their motley crew, headed by a beefy and short-tempered captain. As Sven looked out to watch the setting sun that Friday evening, the crew were already on their second trip hauling in their 'catch' and preparing to return to dry land before setting out on a third trip very soon thereafter.

After puzzling a little longer about the nature of their voyage Sven gave up the side-deck and proceeded to help sort the rocks into various crates down below in the hold. He never bothered to question the odd hours, nor the frequency or duration of the trips, nor why they only unloaded their cargo in the dead of night.

* * *

_**Metropolis**_,**May 25, 2007.** Clark hadn't seen Lois since 2:30 pm that afternoon when she left to pick Jason up from school.

"Oh, and don't forget, Clark, you're having dinner with Jason and me tonight at our place. We'll see you at 6:30, ok?"

_As if I needed to be reminded…I've been looking forward to this dinner all week!_ "Oh, uh, sure Lois, do you, um…would you like me to bring anything?"

"Just yourself, Smallville. See you then!" she graced him with a smile before heading toward the elevators. Her perfume lingered in the air around his desk for awhile after she left, enticing all his senses.

For once on a Friday night he left work at a normal hour, stopped off at the corner market for a bottle of red wine, and headed home to shower and change into something more casual. At 6:28 PM he landed a block away from the house on Riverside Drive and practically floated to her front door. Glancing around quickly before knocking, he inhaled deeply and blew on the bottle of wine, instantly chilling it in his hands. Clark clasped the bottle in his left hand and confidently rapped at the front door.

"Coming!" came a voice from inside. Clark tipped his glasses and watched as she deftly made her way to the front door.

Lois swung the door and open and almost couldn't believe her eyes…_this can't be my partner…_He stood before her not in his formal three piece suit, but in a thin blue and white striped button up shirt, jeans and sneakers, clutching a bottle of wine in his hand and waving at her dorkily with the other. His hair was still in his face and his glasses slipped precariously down his nose, but she had to reassure herself… "Clark…?"

"Hi Lois! Thanks for inviting me over…I uh, brought some wine…you know, for the grown-ups," he said as he stepped over the threshold. She still couldn't quite reconcile her colleague and friend with the relaxed-looking stranger before her. He continued, "Would you, uh, that is, would you mind taking this, Lois? My hand's starting to go numb." He pressed the bottle toward her.

"Oh right! Sure…" she looked him up and down once more. _I've seen him out of the suit before, haven't I?_ she thought to herself as she headed toward the kitchen. Clark closed the front door and followed in her wake. _I remember now…it was the night I broke it off with Richard…God what a mess I was…_she put the bottle on the counter and gave him the once over once more. _I gotta admit though, they sure grow 'em well in Kansas._

Jason, however, was not one to be fooled by a simple change of clothes. "Hi Mr. Clark!" he cried out, bounding down the steps and taking a flying leap into Clark's arms.

"Hey Buddy, how are you? Almost ready for school to g-get out?" he asked his son enthusiastically.

"Yeah…I'm going into the first grade in the Fall and Mrs. Kelly has been telling us all about it. She says we'll learn to read by ourselves when we get to the first grade! I can't wait," he told Clark as the man put him back down on his feet.

_Only our child would be __**this**__ excited about a school year three months away. _"But don't you have any fun summer plans, Jason?"

"I'll prob'ly play with my friend Danny, and Mommy said we could maybe go to a ball game, if I was good. And Daddy said he might take me up in the seaplane sometime soon!" He looked up at Clark and squeezed his hand as he said 'Daddy'; the boy knew the man beside him was his Daddy too, but that they'd had to keep it a secret from Mommy for a little while longer. Clark gently squeezed back.

"So you've heard from Richard?" he asked Lois. She had been watching the two boys before her interact when he broke her out of her reverie with the question.

"He called last night to talk to Jason. Said he'll be back in town next week to finalize some of the details regarding the s-a-l-e of the h-o-u-s-e," she replied before a timer on the oven went off. She pulled open the door while Clark prepared himself to put out a small fire. However, he discovered a pleasing aroma reaching his nose instead.

"Are those…biscuits?" he asked hesitantly.

Lois looked over at him from over her shoulder. "Yes, what else would they be?"

"Well I…uh…it's just that…erm…you're not exactly…how should I say this? You're not exactly k-known for your cooking, Lois," he thrust his hands in his pockets and squirmed where he stood as soon as the words left his mouth.

She gave him a coy smile before replying, "And I told _you_ that I had a few tricks up my sleeve that didn't involve take-out. Now you boys go wash up and I'll meet you out on the patio. And Jason make sure you use soap!" But he had already sped off down the hall.

When the boys re-emerged a moment later a veritable feast met Clark's eyes; not only did he think he'd never seen Lois look any lovelier than she did framed by the sunset in the backyard, but the dinner she'd set for them looked and smelled incredible.

"Who are you and what have you done with Lois Lane?" he deadpanned. She blushed in spite of herself. Jason scrambled into his seat and Clark pulled back one for Lois before sitting on the other side of their son.

"You made biscuits, corn on the cob _and_ _fried chicken_? How did you…?"

"...know these were your favorite foods? Well it helps when you ask the mother of the guest what his personal preferences are. Your Mother was nice enough to write out the recipes too—broke it down step-by-step so that I wouldn't make a mess of things or burn the house down in the process. Now eat up and tell me how it compares…I don't expect it to be like anything Martha could make, but I hope…"

The unexpected gesture, the thought that Lois had put into the meal for _him,_ for Clark Kent, overwhelmed him. He involuntarily reached over the table and hugged her in thanks. She sat there stunned by the unwieldy embrace before patting him on the back patronizingly.

"It's ok there, Smallville…it's just food…" He immediately let go.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Just tell me I didn't overcook the chicken," she joked, trying to ease the awkward tension. He took a big bite out of the chicken then and there.

"You didn't o-overcook the chicken." She threw her head back and laughed at how boyish he was, then turned to help cut Jason's chicken before giving him a small ear of corn.

"Remember, Honey, small bites," she said encouragingly. She turned back to Clark again. "Clark, I was wondering…"

"Yes?" he asked quickly, looking up and over at her with eager bright blue eyes.

"Clark, we're friends, aren't we?"

He eyed her suspiciously, not knowing where this was going. "_Yes_…"

"So how come I didn't know more about you before I went to Smallville? I mean, we've worked together for years before you went on your trip, you know all about my crazy family, and you've even babysat my son! And it's just…well, when I was in your hometown…I guess I felt like I didn't really know you at all. At least, not _all_ of you."

Clark took an extremely large gulp as she uttered those last words. "Well gosh, L-Lois, I don't know…i-it's not as if I, I mean, I'm not h-hiding anything from you." _Lies, lies, lies!_ his conscience screamed at him. _And I never lie…oh this is going to come back and bite me in the…_

"How come you never told anyone you were adopted? Or that your father had passed away?"

"Jimmy knew…not about my being adopted, but about my Dad. His father abandoned his family when he w-was 15, and my Dad died when I w-was 18…and I guess…I guess we both just feel the loss in a particular way, you know?"

"Wow. I never knew that."

"Well you never asked, Lois," he immediately regretted that comment; it came out more like an insult when he was just stating a simple truth.

She winced, knowing he hadn't meant it the way it sounded…_But the truth hurts. He's right, you never did ask…and you call him and Jimmy friends! Friends!!!!_ She mentally berated herself before Jason attacking his meat distracted her.

"Jason, what did I tell you about taking smaller bites? Now cut that up before you choke," he nodded solemnly and did as he was told.

Clark continued. "A-as for the adoption…I never really considered myself adopted. They'll always b-be Mom and Dad to me."

"What's add-opted?" Jason asked, breaking the grown-up's eye contact with his question.

Clark responded before Lois had a chance. "Well Jason, adoption is when a child is born by one person and raised by another parent or set of parents who love that child very much. They raise that child because the person or people who made that child can't raise it by themselves. My parents died when I was very little…" Lois' heart caught in her throat as she watched Clark explain his life to her son, never noticing that he had dropped the stutter, "…and unfortunately, I don't remember them well on my own. But when they died Martha and Jonathan Kent adopted me and raised me as their son. So even though my Mom didn't give birth to me, she's still my Mom. Does that make sense?"

He looked up at Clark with those unmistakable big blue eyes. "Kinda."

"Well I guess we'll just have to settle for 'kinda' now, won't we?" Clark said with a chuckle.

"Clark, I'm so…"

He cut her off. "Don't, Lois. There's nothing to apologize for. It all happened a long time ago." And he meant it.

A shameful blush rose to her cheeks regardless, so he decided to switch topics. "So, how's the apart…"

She snapped her head up and interrupted him. "_Appointment book_ search going? Well _CLARK_, I haven't really had a chance to find that perfect _appointment book_ yet…"

Jason watched as Clark threw quizzical glances at his Mom and she looked sternly back at him. He always got that look when he was about to say something his Mommy didn't want him to, or when he was about to say something she considered impolite. She mouthed something he couldn't make out and jerked her head in his direction. Clark nodded in sudden comprehension.

"What's going on?" Jason piped up.

"Nothing," they both hastened to reply. He looked at them a moment longer before re-attacking his corn.

"You haven't…?"

"No, it's been so much so fast, even I'm having a hard time processing it…I'm hoping that…well I'm hoping it'll work itself out over the summer."

"I see."

They both focused on their food for a moment.

"You know, Lois, the offer s-s-still holds, if you ever…"

"No! I mean, no thank you, Clark…I appreciate the gesture and all, really I do, and you've been so good to us both already, it's just…it's just that this is something I have to do on my own."

He looked a little downcast as she spoke. "I understand." He pushed the discarded cob around on his plate with his fork. "I'll still keep an eye out for an _appointment book_ for you t-though."

Her worn and tired expression melted into a smile as she locked eyes with him. "Thank you…"

"Don't mention it…"

"No wait, let me finish. I know I haven't been the easiest person to work with lately…" he shot her a sly look, "…ok, EVER, but especially in light of recent events, and yet you've always been there for me. Not to mention how you've been looking out for Jason a lot lately too!" She tousled his hair as she mentioned his name, and the boy looked over at Clark with a wide goofy grin on his face and the hair hanging over his eyes._ He looks so much like both of us…thank God he wasn't looking at Lois just now or it would all be over right here_. Her voice cut back into his thoughts, "And that's why I…correction, _we_, invited you over here to dinner tonight, to thank you properly."

"Really, Lois, you didn't have to go through all this trouble for me…"

"I wanted to. And it wasn't trouble," she replied, reaching out and patting his hand. She was looking straight into his eyes again, an act which he knew to be a dangerous one, yet he couldn't bring himself to break away. Lois cocked her head a little as she thought, _You know, I never noticed how remarkably blue Clark's eyes are…_he seemed to read this in her face because he finally turned away and looked at Jason.

"Are you finished there, Bud?"

The boy licked the last of the chicken off his fingers and held them out before his empty plate for inspection. "Yep!"

"Well how about you and I go wash the dishes since your Mom worked so hard cooking today, ok?" And Clark rose from the table, collecting the empty plates and leaving Lois' hand stretched out near his place setting. Jason trotted into the house with his own dish and silverware.

He started to follow his son inside when Lois spoke again. "You never stop, do you?"

Clark cleared his throat. "Uh, n-never stop what, Lois?"

"Caring. You never stop caring."

He looked beyond her into the bay momentarily before responding in a slightly deeper tone of voice, "No, I never do." And with that he left her sipping the last of her wine on the patio as he turned to go into the house.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Metropolis,**_** June 1, 2007.** "How is our Rordenville facility coming along, Mr. Finneran?" the voice on the other end of the line asked. It was still somewhat raspy, but less so than it had been the previous week.

"Very well, Sir, as are the other properties. All we need is for our maritime contingent to continue to come through for us and we should be finished right on schedule, if not _ahead_ of schedule, if I may be so bold as to presume so."

The voice on the other end was silent for a moment before responding. "I don't like it when men _presume_ too much, Mr. Finneran. Deals have gone wrong in the past because men presumed too much and neither of us can afford for this venture to go badly now."

Nick pulled nervously at his tie, "You're absolutely right, Sir, I won't make that mistake again in the future." There was another pause from the other end and he almost pulled his tie off entirely.

"Very good. Now what about Section 13, have you made any progress on that front? Mr. Dobbs informed me of your reservations about that portion of the plan, but if these instructions aren't followed to the letter…"

"Sir, I've been in touch with my contacts here in the community and we will be moving forward on Section 13 before the end of the month. Everything should be in place by late-August."

"I am very impressed by your diligence, Mr. Finneran, and I am not a person who is easily impressed. You will receive another payment by courier on Monday. I'll be in touch." The line went dead and Nick couldn't help but mentally pat himself on the back for a job well done.

* * *

_**Daily Planet**_**, June 1, 2007. **Richard had arrived back at the office on Tuesday and in spite of the distance, relations between him and Lois had not improved. In-between deadlines he was continually harassing her about the sale of the house; Clark knew he wouldn't be so cold as to throw a mother and child out on the streets, but it was the only leverage the desperate man had and he was using it to push all of Lois' buttons. He returned to the office from an assignment early Friday afternoon and discovered the two of them verbally duking it out in the conference room; even with the shades drawn and the door closed snatches of their argument could be heard in the bullpen.

"I'm trying!"

"You're TRYING, Lois? You're TRYING? Like you tried with our relationship, huh? I'm surprised you haven't moved out already!"

"Now that's not fair and you know it! I told you…" Clark pushed the sound of their voices out of his mind, knowing his return had caused all of this. As he averted his gaze his eyes fell to rest on Lois' desk where Jason sat coloring a picture. Taking a quick look around and noting that everyone else's attention was on the former fiancés, Clark deposited his briefcase on his desk and strode over to his son, pulling off his glasses as he bent down to the boy's eye-level. The child had been drawing a picture of a house, but instead of the blue skies and happy yellow sun he drew rain clouds instead.

_You don't need to be a child psychologist to figure this one out…_he thought as he caught Jason's attention. "Hey Kiddo," he said in a deep, quiet voice, "What do you say you and I get out of here?"

"You mean…?" and Jason looked up at the ceiling.

"Yep, that's what I mean." The boy jumped down off the swivel chair and Clark stood up and replaced his glasses. Jason took his hand and they inconspicuously made their way to the elevator bay.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE GIVING US 21 DAYS?!?!? I CAN'T BE EXPECTED TO FIND A NEW PLACE IN 21 DAYS! RICHARD, YOU'RE BEING UNREASONABLE!!!"

The door closed behind them and nobody noticed the pair traveling up to the rooftop.

Once out in the light of the late-Spring afternoon Clark took off his glasses, folded them up and settled them into the pocket of his jacket before peeling it off and placing it neatly on the ground. He picked up Jason in his left arm and prepared for take-off.

"Aren't you going to change into your Superman suit, Daddy?"

He smiled at his son. "I don't have to. Where we're going no one will see us." And with that he clutched Jason close and took off into the brilliant blue and white sky.

Clark had been floating along on his back above the clouds with Jason lying down on his stomach and soaking in his surroundings. They had been like that for five minutes, neither one saying a word, just soaking up the sun and enjoying the relative solitude.

Jason turned his head so his chin was in Clark's chest and Clark leaned his head up to meet his gaze. "Daddy…" he asked tentatively, "…why are Mommy and my other Daddy fighting? I don't like it when they fight…"

He let out a pained sigh. "Well Jason," he started, knowing Lois would be much better equipped at this aspect of the parenting business than he was. "Your Mommy and Daddy were together for a long time and they loved…and _still_ love…each other very much; it's just not the same kind of love that they had before. And now that they're separating they're both in pain. You see, sometimes, when people are hurt they act out and try to hurt the person who hurt them first."

The boy thought about this logically for a moment before saying, "That's stupid."

Clark let out a little laugh. "Yes I suppose it is, but it's what people do. Now I want you to understand something, Son; no matter what happens, your Mom, Richard and I love you _very_ much—and it's the kind of love that doesn't go away, EVER. So even when they're yelling and fighting like they are now, or if you ever see me or your Mom disagreeing, it doesn't effect how we feel about you, ok?"

"Ok," Jason replied before turning his cheek to Clark's chest and looking out at the clouds again. Clark had one arm around his son and one hand behind his head, wondering if he'd handled that situation well enough or not, but only time could tell. They floated along for a few minutes longer before Clark shifted.

"It's time to go, Son," he said as he re-positioned the boy so that they could land.

"Aww, do we have to?!"

"I'm afraid we do or your Mother will start to worry about you. Now, if she asks, where did we go?"

"We went for a walk around the block."

He gulped audibly; he hated making Jason lie for him, but it was the only way to ensure the protection of his secret…for now, at least. "Very good, now let's head back, ok?" Clark turned his body in the direction of the _Planet_ and landed soundlessly on the roof a few seconds later. Placing Jason gently back on the ground, he retrieved his jacket and glasses before riding the elevator back down to the bullpen.

As soon as they got back to the newsroom Jason broke free of Clark's grasp and ran over to his Mother, who sat red-eyed at her desk. He wrapped his arms around her in a giant hug.

"Jason! Where did you wander off to?! I told you not to leave my desk!" she admonished him.

"That'd be my fault, Lois. I, um, thought that maybe, you know, with everything going on, that he and I might take uh…take a walk around the block."

She looked extremely tired and sad as she wrapped her arms around her son and rest her head on top of his. "You heard that, huh?" she asked meekly.

"Bits and pieces of it, yeah," he replied semi-truthfully. "I'll, uh, leave you alone now…"

"Thanks, Clark. I'll be alright in a minute," she turned her attention back to Jason and held his face out in front of her with both hands. She gave him a half-hearted smile.

"Today's your lucky day, Buddy! Mommy's going to leave work early and then you and I are going to go to the park and have a little chat, ok?" She stopped and turned his head to the right. "Is that a button imprint on your cheek…?" His little blue eyes went wide as saucers at the question, and Clark stiffened at his desk.

"NO! I mean, uh…I got a bug bite! At school! Out on the playground!" he spit out a little too guiltily. Clark buried his head in his assignment…_that kid is as good at thinking on his feet as his Mother…_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Metropolis**_**, June 18, 2007.** "Freeze, Metropolis P.D., put your hands in the air!" a voice in the darkness called out. Sven was so startled he dropped part of the crate on his toe as the bright lights from several patrol cars blinded him. Carl stood beside him, hands in the air, visibly shaken.

"Get down on your knees, hands on top of your head, now!" the disembodied voice called out again. Not knowing what was being said, Sven mimicked his cousin's actions and got down on the ground. Soon several officers were swarming over them, and one clasped cold metal cuffs around his hands before hauling him back up on his feet.

"Hey Chuck, you might wanna take a look at this!" one of the men cried out to his comrades. A tall wiry man ambled over to the officer that called out to him.

"What is it, Barry, is it the narcotics?"

"No, Sir, I think it's worse…" and Barry shone a flashlight down at the crate Sven had dropped; a corner of the wooden box had burst open, revealing the shining green rocks within.

"Oh…my…God…" Chuck said when he re-discovered his voice. Barely controlled fury fell over his face; he turned to Sven. "You and your buddies are in for a WHOLE WORLD OF TROUBLE, DO YOU KNOW THAT??!?!" Sven cowered back in fear, a dazed and confused expression greeting the other man's eyes. "Take 'em away!" Chuck yelled to the officers leading the men away in handcuffs, "And get this evidence back to headquarters, stat!"

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**June 19, 2007.** Jimmy and Clark had graciously taken the day off from work to help Lois move into her new apartment, located six blocks away from where Clark lived.

"I still can't believe how you managed to find this place, Clark! The timing couldn't have been better!" He grimaced as she mentioned that bit but didn't let her see it. The truth was that during the course of one of his sleepless nights in the last few weeks he heard the landlord, Saul Gordon, talking to authorities about one of his tenants.

"She was late with the rent, and Mrs. Weyland was never late with the rent, so I figured she was short and I'd give her a little more time… I never thought she was dead," he told the officer on the scene.

"And by your accounts, Mr. Gordon, Mrs. Weyland lived alone, preferred to keep to herself and had no known family?"

"No, her husband died a few years back and I've never seen anyone coming to visit. I feel bad I didn't notice anything sooner…"

"I'm just speaking from my own experience here, but it looks like she had a good long run of it; she doesn't look like she suffered, just went in her sleep. In this day and age and with the likes of that nut-job Luthor on the loose you can't ask for a more painless way to go…"

Clark had tuned out the rest of the conversation after that, but looked through the walls to see what the exact address was and what condition the apartment had been left in. The next morning he gave Lois the number of the landlord that he'd gotten out of the phone book; she took a look at the place the following afternoon and agreed to the lease almost immediately. She even got a bit of a break in the rent since Mr. Gordon was still feeling repentant about not checking in on Mrs. Weyland sooner.

Both he and Clark had neglected to mention the condition that the previous owner had vacated the apartment in to Lois.

She continued talking, "…And thank you so much, both of you, for taking time off from work to help me get settled in. I know you both have better stuff to do with your free time, and the middle of the work week isn't exactly convenient…"

"You don't have to keep apologizing, Miss Lane, Clark and I are glad to help, aren't we?" he said, giving Clark a good natured punch in the arm, trying hard not to wince as his hand met steel. Both men grinned at her.

"Thanks, Jimmy," she said as he reached down to grab a box marked 'Kitchenware'. "Oh and Jimmy? When we're out of the bullpen, you can call me Lois."

"Sure thing Miss La…I mean, Lois," he picked up the box and headed toward the door. She and Clark chuckled at him behind his back as they loaded themselves up with more boxes and furniture. Clark tried to tackle the heaviest items himself but without simultaneously giving himself away. When it came time to move the sofa he and Jimmy had to lug it six flights up a narrow stairwell, a task which proved to be more than a little annoying. _You know, it would be so much easier to fly this sucker up and through the window…_

Early afternoon crept up on them and they'd almost managed to unload the entire truck. Clark had just bent over to get a grip on a large box of books when he first heard the buzzing in his ears.

"Superman, if you can hear me, this is Special Agent Woodrow. NO ONE is HURT, but we've had a new development in the case. If you could meet us at Headquarters in City Hall as soon as possible, we'd appreciate it." He looked over at his companions; Lois and Jimmy had kept up their conversation, neither one indicating that they'd heard anything out of the ordinary. He had to think fast.

"Hey guys, look, I'm sorry to have to do this, but I forgot I promised to walk my neighbor...uh...my neighbor Henry's dog. He's out of town on business this week…" _Too much information Clark, just excuse yourself and get to City Hall!_ "Anyhow, I gotta go, but I'll be back soon, ok? Sorry to ditch and run like this…I'll be back as soon as I can though, I promise!"

Without waiting to hear a response he darted down the street then across it, weaving in and out of traffic, before turning the corner and out of sight.

"And I thought that was just something he did in the office…" Jimmy said as he bent over to pick up the box Clark had just dropped. "Man this is heavy! Uh, Lois, would you mind lending me a hand?"

* * *

Special Agent Clarissa Woodrow was pacing in the hallway of the makeshift headquarters that had been established at City Hall in light of Lex Luthor's re-emergence. Although he had yet to physically show himself, in her gut she knew it was only a matter of time, and last night's raid helped to confirm her suspicions. The call to Superman had only gone out a moment or two before but she was anxious to speak with him.

"You rang?" he said as he appeared before her, a serious expression on his face.

"Yes, we did, and thank you for responding so quickly. We wanted to alert you to the matter sooner, but we wanted to make sure we had something more concrete to present to you," she said to him, talking as she took off down the hall with the Man of Steel hot on her heels.

"Last night one of the MPD's undercover narcotic units conducted a raid against a suspicious fishing vessel based out of dock 16. It was a single vessel; they were weary of it because it didn't appear to be traveling along normal fishing routes…it also only docked late at night. The officers on the scene thought they'd taken down another drug smuggler when they discovered something very different—the ship was laden with Kryptonite," she informed him as she paused in front of a door and turned to gauge his reaction. Superman had stopped dead in his tracks several feet behind. Woodrow watched as he involuntarily clenched his fist.

"How much?" he finally managed to ask.

"I'm sorry?"

"How much were they able to bring ashore from the debris from New Krypton?" he asked. Mentally he was berating himself for not arriving at this contingency on his own earlier.

"I wish we could tell you."

He looked as incredulous as Superman ever allowed himself to look. "Excuse me?"

Agent Woodrow relinquished her hold on the door and turned to face him. "Superman, it's not that I can't tell you—in fact, our best guess is that that ship can hold 1500 pounds of the stuff safely—but the truth of the matter is we really don't know the answer to the question ourselves. The Captain of the boat, who, ironically, seemed to be the only English-speaking person on board, took off in one of the half-loaded trucks just as the raid began. We've been questioning the other members of the crew that were left behind, but no one seems to be talking—whether they don't want to tell us or they genuinely don't know is anyone's guess. That's why we called you in; we thought that since the Kryptonite was obviously meant to target you, that without it one or all of them might cave and give us some new leads as to who hired them."

"So you're telling me that the driver made off with about 750 pounds of Kryptonite last night and you don't know how much more he has in his possession or where it is located?"

"That's right."

He groaned inwardly. "Where is the remainder of it being held?"

She shuffled a little in place before responding. "Our respective agencies had—ahem—excuse me, _planned_ for a possibility of this sort, though not on this magnitude," she hastened to say as a look of shock came over him, "and they converted one of the fall-out shelters underneath City Hall into a storage facility. Don't worry, the room is lead-lined, you'll be safe here." He let out another long sigh. She looked at him sympathetically before broaching the subject again. "Do you think you'll be able to talk with one or two of them and see what you can find out?"

He hesitated a moment before responding, "Do I have much of a choice?"

She broke away from his gaze, disheartened by the weight of the yoke that the world continually heaped on his shoulders. Agent Woodrow wondered how much more he could take before he broke; just by looking at him now she thought he was pretty damn close. Placing her hand on the knob she showed him into the room.

Several armed guards stood watch over the 9 prisoners, each of whom sat in his chair, alone, separated from his comrade by a cubicle wall. None dared to speak a word, but they all inhaled as one at the sight of the tall man in blue, red and yellow. Near the end of the line, a gaunt blond fellows eye's went exceptionally wide at the sight; Superman indicated that this was the one he would talk to to try and gain more information on their operation. Agent Woodrow signaled to one of the guards who led the blond man out of the room behind the backs of his comrades. Wordlessly Superman and Special Agent Woodrow vacated the room and moved behind the guard and prisoner to an interrogation room down the hall.

"Where's Special Agent Chase, if you don't mind my asking?" he questioned, trying to ease the palpable tension.

"He's back at headquarters trying to find the breadcrumbs that link this boat to Lex Luthor."

"I see." They stepped into the interrogation room and the guard sat the prisoner down opposite the Man of Steel.

"Thank you, you can wait outside," Agent Woodrow said to the guard.

Superman didn't speak for a long time, he just stared straight at the perpetrator. The fear was apparent in the man; his breathing and heart rate were through the roof and his terror-filled eyes jumped between the two remaining occupants in the room. Using his x-ray vision, the Man of Steel noticed a small piece of paper with a handwritten address in the Netherlands in the man's shirt pocket.

Switching to Dutch, Superman spoke first. "Can you understand me?"

Just when he thought the other man's eyes couldn't get any wider they practically bulged out of his head as this otherworldly man spoke to him in his native tongue. Agent Woodrow also watched the scene playing out before her in amazement; she knew the superhero had many abilities, but being multi-lingual was one of his lesser known ones. Unable to find his voice right away the man merely nodded in comprehension.

"What is your name?"

The man swallowed hard, despite the fact that his throat was parched. "Sven Inglarsson."

"And how long were you working on the boat?" he asked coldly.

"A…a little over three weeks, I think. I'm not really sure…we were out quite a lot."

Superman pursed his lips at the news. "And how many trips did you make to unload the Kryptonite?"

"We made maybe 10 or 11 trips…like I said, we were in and out a lot, I'm really not sure…wait, what did you call the rocks?"

"Those weren't rocks, they were pieces of Kryptonite, now stop feigning ignorance and tell me who hired you!" he banged his fist angrily on the table and left a dent where his hand landed. Superman NEVER let his emotions gain control over him in public situations, but the realization that so much Kryptonite had been secreted away right under his very nose pushed him to the brink.

He immediately regretted his intimidating tactic as he saw Sven break down in soft sobs. "I didn't know, I swear, I'm telling the truth, I didn't know! My Cousin just told me it was a job, a job with good money…please, I have a sick Mother and Father at home to help support, I needed the money…it was just a simple boating job…oh God I didn't know…" The man brought his elbows up onto the table and buried his head in his arms in shame. Sven's heart rate and breathing, although elevated due to the stressful circumstances, did not indicate that he was lying as he spoke. Superman reached an arm out to the man and placed it gently on his shoulder.

"I believe you," he said to the trembling young man. "I will try to help you as best I can. I need to leave now, but when they get another translator in here will you agree to cooperate? Tell them everything you know…it will go to help your case a lot more if you work with them rather than against them." Sven nodded, too taxed to attempt to say anything more. Superman got up from the table and Agent Woodrow followed him outside.

"You can bring him back now," she said as they walked past the guard. When he was out of earshot she turned to Superman and asked, "What did he tell you?"

"His name is Sven Inglarsson, he was on the boat a little over three weeks and made roughly 10 or 11 trips. He doesn't know who his employer was—he wasn't even sure of the timetable of it all, just that he was out on the water a lot."

"10 or 11 trips? If the MPD's assessment of how much cargo that boat could hold is correct…"

"…Then there's roughly 15,000 pounds of Kryptonite out there somewhere."

* * *

Clark took his leave of Special Agent Woodrow shortly after that exchange and returned to Lois' new apartment. Re-adjusting his glasses for the third time, he couldn't help but worry about the implications of this latest development in the Luthor case. _And just where does a madman like that hide 15,000+ pounds of Kryptonite?_ He wondered to himself as he made his way into the building and up the stairs to knock on the door. _I think it's time that my alter-ego intervene…_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Metropolis**_**, June 19, 2007.** "Thank you for tipping us off to the raid…you were _most_ helpful," the raspy voice on the other end of the line said.

"No no, thank_you,_ Sir…for the right price I'd aim to help most anyone in a similar situation," the man replied.

"I see…so you would not be averse to remaining in your current position? For the right price of course."

The man's eyes went wide with greed. "Absolutely NOT, Sir!"

"Very well then. Obviously we will expect similar 'help' from you in the future that would warrant such a steep price tag."

"Oh that won't be a problem," he cut in hastily, "I have connections at some of the highest levels. I've got an eye and an ear on most everything." He paused in thought. "How do you want me to contact you in the future, when I have some big news?"

"The same way as before will do just fine. I'll be in touch if anything changes."

"Alright then Mr…" the line went dead. The man pulled the receiver away from his ear and stared at it before shrugging his shoulders and restoring it to it's cradle. Doing the math of his probable future windfall in his head he let out a low whistle.

"Well I'll be..."

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, June 19, 2007. **Clark and Jimmy had left her some hours before, and now Lois stood amidst the chaos and clutter that already threatened to evict her from her new apartment. Richard had agreed to look after Jason while she sorted through the mess. He'd immediately felt sorry after the scene he started at the _Planet_ and tried to make amends with her later that same week.

"Lois, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have behaved like that…I was jet-lagged and stressed and just seeing you there acting like nothing had happened…it just pushed me over the edge," he told her standing on the front step of what had once been _their_ home.

She stepped outside and shut the door behind her so Jason wouldn't hear. "You're stressed?!?! You're stressed?!?! I'm a single mother who's being threatened with eviction by her former lover! Richard I know I hurt you when I ended things between us but I tried to be as kind as I could…I guess I never knew how spiteful you could be."

Those words had hit him like a slap across the face. "Spiteful? You left me for Superman, Lois! You threw me away for a man from another planet! A man I can't compete with! And I bowed out with as much dignity as I could muster, threw myself into the middle of stories in war-torn countries to try and forget you, and you're calling me _spiteful_?"

Lois stood poised and ready for battle, her hands on her hips. _So that's where he's been hiding…_she thought to herself. She glared at Richard.

He let out a long frustrated sigh. "Look, I didn't come here to pick another fight with you, I just came over to apologize for the last one. I didn't mean what I said, you and Jason can stay here as long as you need to…we'll find other buyers for the house when you're ready."

"Actually, Clark discovered an opening in a building in his neighborhood and I'm going to check it out tomorrow. If all goes well Jason and I will no longer be a problem for you." _Oh I wish I hadn't said that!!!!!_ she thought as she kept the stony look in place on her face

Again the hurt flashed across his features. "Clark found a place for you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Clark, Clark Kent; tall guy, kind of goofy, wears glasses, sits across the aisle from me at work…why do you find it so odd that he should be helping me?"

"I just think he should know what he's getting involved in, that's all," he said sharply. She winced at the implication.

"Richard, I think you've insulted me enough for one evening. Now if you would like to say good-night to Jason then I won't stop you, but otherwise I'll have to ask you to _leave_."

He stood awkwardly on their front stoop, his hands fishing around in his pockets, like a child who had been caught sneaking into the cookie jar. "I'd like to see him for a few moments, if that's alright," he said, and they both turned to head back into the house. "And Lois? If you do decide to take the place, or any other, just let me know and I'll stick around Metropolis to watch him for a few days so you can, you know, get things fixed up without him underfoot."

Lois took a quick breath before quietly replying, "Thank you, I'd appreciate that."

While her relationship with her ex hadn't improved since then she was extremely grateful for the gesture, and now began attacking boxes left right and center. Superman entered through the living room window that overlooked the alley; she had anticipated his finding her here and kept it open for that purpose. Lois felt the gush of wind, saw the crumpled newspaper pieces rustle across the floor, and without looking up said, "I knew you'd be around."

He touched down and marveled at her, sitting cross-legged in front of the box of books he'd left on the sidewalk hours earlier when he flew off to answer Agent Woodrow's call. "Good evening to you too," he replied.

"I'd offer you a seat, but as you can see…" she motioned around at the clutter around her.

"It's alright, I'll stand. You might want to stay seated though," he told her as she spun around and made to get up, "I have some news on Luthor that you're going to want to hear." He waited and watched her, judging how best to break the news.

"Well don't keep me in suspense, have out with it!" She looked up at his face, so full of concern, and crossed her arms in front of her knees.

"This morning the _Planet_ reported on an MPD raid on a fishing vessel down at the docks yesterday evening. Did you read about it?"

"No I haven't been in to work all day, I was too preoccupied with the move."

"Neither did—Clark…" he saw the confused look on her face as he inadvertently let his name slip. _Get it together, Kent; she needs to know this information NOW, you can tell her who you really are later, when the timing's better…_He hastened to explain, "I saw him earlier and told him what I'm about to tell you. I figured you two could work on the problem together."

"I'm sure we can but I still don't know what the problem is," she said as casually as she could manage.

"Right, the boat. The MPD thought they might have been smuggling drugs into the City, but when they got a closer look at the cargo they found something much more dangerous. They found Kryptonite, Lois, crate after crate of Kryptonite."

Lois felt the color drain out of her face and her whole body slacken. "W-w-what are we going to do? You…and Jason! _Oh nooooo_…." she said as she raised her hands to her face. Superman strode over to her to comfort her, pulling her up and into him. She stifled a sob as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder.

"How much?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper, looking straight into his eyes.

_That's my Lois, _he thought, _ever the reporter._ "A lot."

She got indignant at the brush-off. "But that doesn't answer my question._How much_ did they have, Kal-el?"

He held her at arm's length before answering; she only used that name when she was deadly serious. "I spoke to one of the crewmen this afternoon—he didn't know what he was doing, I'm sure of it. Whoever was hiring hired all recent immigrants to the country so as to better keep them in the dark. The man I talked to…he told me he thought they made about 10 or 11 trips. The FBI and MPD techs figure that the boat could handle about 1500 pounds at a time safely…" he watched her eyes dart back and forth as she did the math in her head, occasionally counting out loud and pulling out her fingers to help her.

"Oh God no!" she whispered before throwing her head into his chest to hide her worried sobs.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Metropolis**_**, June 19, 2007. **"What about the maritime operation?" Nick Finneran asked worriedly into the phone.

"Our only tie to the endeavor was the captain and he was able to get out in time with half of the shipment. We have a sufficient amount for our needs. I've had it dispersed to all the branches, with slightly more sent to our first two locations, as well as a smaller portion sent to a third party for…modification…" the raspy-voiced man informed him.

"If I may be so bold as to say so, Sir, it would appear that all is going to plan."

"Yes, it is. But now you'll have to ride out the inevitable investigation into your connection with the boat, which I'm sure you'll be able to manage tolerably well."

"It won't be a problem; everything is prepared and in place."

"Good. And Section 13…"

"That is proceeding along smoothly, as reported before."

"Very well then, I'll be in touch, Mr. Finneran," the raspy-voiced man said before hanging up.

_Success is so close I can almost taste it…_Nick thought as he hung up the phone and twirled his desk chair to the magnificent view behind him.

* * *

_**Daily Planet**_**, June 20, 2007.** Lois bustled out of the elevators of the _Planet_ bullpen early the next morning, looking all business. Clark had anticipated as much and sat hunched over his computer, working on tying the raided vessel from the previous Monday to Lex Luthor. _Maybe then we'll be able to track all the Kryptonite and put an end to this once and for all…_

"Clark?" Lois asked, noticing him for the first time in the practically empty bullpen.

"Morning, Lois," he said gravely. Then adding in a whisper, "Superman told me what's going on. I got started on tracing the owner of the boat but it's proving to be a lot more difficult than you might think. Oh, and here, I got this for you," he handed her a coffee he had picked up for her in Italy during the course of his morning fly-by.

"Thanks," she said, taking the drink extended to her. "Well I've got some leads myself. Superman stopped by my place last night and told me to try and get in touch with a Special Agent Chase over at City Hall. He said that this Chase person is attached to the manhunt for Lex Luthor and that they may have more answers for us since they've already had an extra day's worth of research." She reached over her desk and into one of the drawers for her tape recorder before turning and heading back to the elevator bay.

"Uh, Lois? It's only 7:30…I doubt he's even at work yet," he said, scrambling for his notepad and pen before following after her.

"You of all people should be familiar with the old adage 'The early bird gets the worm'," she said as the doors closed in front of them. "Besides, who says that Agent Chase is a man?"

_D'oh!_ Clark mentally slapped himself upside the head. "Well, I…it..it's just that, um…the FBI…has a long history…of being, well, um…predominantly male."

Lois just rolled her eyes. "Way to be a guy, Clark…way to be a guy."

* * *

They flashed their press passes at the front entrance to City Hall and were escorted to the makeshift headquarters to await Special Agent Chase's arrival. He appeared in the office about twenty minutes later, looking much more subdued and less like an eager child than he had the last time he had seen Clark, which was when he had been introduced to him as Superman.

Lois took the lead. "Good Morning, Agent Chase? I'm Lois Lane, this is my partner Clark Kent, and we're from the _Daily Planet_…"

"Look I spoke to all the reporters yesterday, I have nothing left to say…"

"What you told all the reporters yesterday was that the vessel in question had been raided due to suspected drug smuggling. What you _didn't_ tell them was what was actually found on board. Am I correct?"

His mouth flapped open in disbelief. "Let's continue this in here," he said, gesturing to an empty office and quickly ushering them inside. "Now look here," he called out, wagging his finger in both their faces, "I don't know how you found out about that…"

"It was Superman," Clark quickly interjected. "He's asked us to help in the investigation, see where the boat leads and who it's connected to, in hopes of tracking down Lex Luthor more quickly."

"But how could he…?" he asked more to himself than to the two reporters in front of him. "Woodrow…" he muttered. Agent Chase sat down in a chair and motioned for the other two to do the same. "Look here, the information I'm about to impart to you doesn't leave this room, understand? It's strictly off the record. I've been going nuts the last 36 hours trying to follow all the paperwork connected to this boat. Best I can tell, it was a privately owned boat hired out for a few quick money-making trips. Hell, the bulk of the crew hardly spoke any English, I doubt they knew what they were being hired for! What that person wanted with the Kryptonite or where it is now, well your guess is as good as mine, but I think you're barking up the wrong tree here tying it all to Luthor. It was just a freak coincidence."

Clark had detected a slight elevation in the Agent's heart rate as he spoke, but whether it was from being called out by two of Metropolis' ace reporters or whether he was lying was hard to say.

"You're telling us that Lex Luthor's money _just happens_ to start moving around, that ex-cons from the East Side start to go underground and that Kryptonite gets dredged from the ocean floor, and none of it is related?" Clark asked incredulously. Lois looked at him, taken aback by the force in her partner's tone.

Agent Chase looked at both of them, a vacant expression crossing his face before simply replying, "Yes that is exactly what I'm saying."

"That's BULL!" Lois cried, jumping up from her seat. "You can't possibly be serious! Look at the pattern, it fits perfectly with all of Luthor's past attempts on Superman's life! Are you really so thick as to believe otherwise?!?!"

The Agent got up from his chair and strode over to the door, holding it open. "Miss Lane, Mr. Kent, I know you are both tax-paying citizens, but I do **NOT** have to put up with this abuse. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go file a report," and he held up an arm to show them out.

"Hmph!" Lois snorted as she crossed her arms across her chest and walked out. "This isn't the last you'll hear from us!" she shouted as she headed down the hall. Clark made to follow after her when Agent Chase caught his arm.

"You better be sure to tell your partner to watch out for herself, running her mouth off like that."

Clark swelled up at the threat and felt his eyes flash red. He straightened up to use all 6'4" of himself to intimidate the other man.

"Is that a threat?" he asked in a deep voice. The other man's heart rate skyrocketed.

"N-n-no. Just a warning, a kindly warning…" he said, slowly taking his arm off of Clark's. He walked briskly down the hall to catch up with his partner.

"What did he say to you?" she asked when they were back on the street again, trying to hail a cab.

"Oh nothing," Clark replied as nonchalantly as he could. "I don't know about you, Lois, but I think that meeting went _swell_," he said sarcastically, breaking into a goofy grin.

"Swell my ass," she said, sticking her tongue out at him jokingly before climbing into the waiting cab.

* * *

"LANE! KENT! Where the hell have you two been?! I ought to dock your pay for missing the staff meeting this morning…" Perry bellowed as the duo re-emerged on the bullpen floor. They both hastened to Perry's office.

"You better have a damn good explanation…"

"It's about the boat raid, Chief," Clark quickly spit out. "The one the MPD busted for alleged narcotic smuggling on Monday night?"

"Monday night? That's old news!"

"Not if it wasn't narcotics they found and now they're trying to cover it up," Lois said. She filled him in on the information they'd received from Superman and how they'd been stone-walled at City Hall. "I think there's more to this than mere coincidence, as Agent Chase would have us believe." Clark nodded in agreement.

The Chief pondered over all he just heard before facing them. "I think so too. Good work you two, stay on it. When you've got _**hard-proof**_ that this is indeed linked to Luthor, as I've no doubt it is, then we'll run with it. It's yours until then. Don't disappoint me…" he said as they both made to exit his office, "…and don't miss another staff meeting, you got that?!" he bellowed for the rest of the bullpen to hear.

They spent the rest of the day pulling old permits, poring over records and reviewing financial information. The mountain of paperwork they amassed took up so much space they had to relocate to the conference room. Neither one broke from their research, except to take a quick water or coffee break, or to pay the delivery person for their food.

The day ended much as it had begun, with the two of them alone in the office. Lois had kicked off her heels long ago and had just returned from calling Jason to wish him a good night.

"Are you behaving yourself, Kiddo?"

"Yes Mommy," he replied sleepily.

"Good, that's what I like to hear." There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Mommy, when can I come home with you?" he asked quietly.

Lois sighed; she missed him so much, but the new apartment just wasn't ready for him yet. "Soon, Baby, real soon."

"But how soon is soon?"

"Well let's see. How many more days until the end of school?"

"TWO!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Then that's how many more days until you can come home with me to our new apartment."

"YAY!"

Lois smiled, even though her son couldn't see her. Clark smiled to himself too, even though he was on the other side of the bullpen in the conference room. She didn't notice.

"Ok Munchkin, Mommy has to go back to work now, so sleep tight! I love you."

"I love you too," he said before hanging up the phone.

She'd re-entered the conference room and promptly fell back to work, highlighting and tossing papers about. Her stocking feet were on one chair as she sat back in another, examining a financial document she'd tossed aside an hour before.

"Um, Lois?"

"Yes, Clark?" she asked, not looking up from the sheet she was reading.

"I was w-wondering…and you don't have to say yes, but I thought that maybe…maybe this Fourth of July, if you don't have other plans…"

"Clark?"

He swallowed hard. "Maybe you and Jason would like to spend it with me…me and my Mother…in S-Smallville?"

She put the paper down on her lap and looked at him. _She's going to say no,_he thought to himself, _just be ready for it, she's going to say no_. While his mind was saying one thing his mouth was doing quite another.

"You two would s-sleep in the guest room of course…and I know my Mom would like to see you again…and…um…there's plenty of s-space for Jason to run around…"

"Actually that sounds really nice…" she started to say. He broke into an unusually large and dorky grin, before she finished, "…but I don't think we can afford the airfare just now, with the move and all."

Without thinking he replied, "Superman could fly you!"

She stared at her partner quizzically. He hastened to explain, "He, um, already said he wouldn't mind dropping me off, so I'm sure…um…two more wouldn't be, uh…w-wouldn't be a problem."

"We'll see…" she said hesitantly. "I'll ask him myself next time I see him. I wouldn't want to impose. And thank you for the invitation, Clark."

_It's no imposition, Lois…_he thought, briefly flirting with the idea of taking off his glasses and super-speeding over to her side at that moment to rub the knots out of her back. At the last minute he decided against it. _Not yet…the timing isn't right…soon, I'll tell her soon,_ he reasoned. _Besides, she's just starting to __really__ warm up to Clark Kent again…_


	18. Chapter 18

"**???"** He knew he'd been left alone in the room for an extremely long period of time…long enough to get two more meals of the same meager soup, bread and water. Aside from changing his position from sitting to sleeping, retrieving his food, or preparing for an attack he had little else to do in his prison cell but think…and the thoughts never stopped coming.

He thought about all the happy times he had known before his imprisonment first; it helped buoy his sagging spirits as the situation dragged on. Even when he was being pummeled from all sides, a desperate part of him clung to the memories of his childhood, of his friends…_of his family_.

Next he took stock of all his regrets; the mistakes he made, the opportunities he missed and the people he'd hurt along the way in his life. Assuming that he got out alive he vowed to himself to make it up to them somehow.

Lastly he examined the sequence of specific events that had brought him to this place. Had he paid more attention to the warning signs, had he been more diligent in his daily life, had he not been so utterly _stupid_ things would have gone differently, he felt. What the man failed to take into account were the sheer number of forces that had conspired_against him_, how extreme measures had been put into motion entirely unbeknownst to him that he had no ability to control, and, even if he could have stopped some of them it would not have saved him from his current situation. Had he not been devoid of any other activity nor in constant pain he would have realized that he was not to be faulted for this predicament; however, that was not the case.

He wondered if the world he knew and craved for had entirely forgotten about him as he sat locked away in his dark cell. After all, what good was it to keep fending off his attackers if there was no life to go back to?

_Why? Why do I keep on living? They're going to kill me, so why do I fight for a few more measly breaths?_

His mental state was growing more wretched with each passing day.

* * *

_**Daily Planet,**_** June 20/21, 2007.** They had continued to work for another two hours before Lois broke the silence. "ARGH! I've read this same paragraph five times and it STILL isn't making any sense!" she cried as she flung the sheet in front of her on the table and put a hand to her forehead.

"I know how you feel," he replied, lifting up his glasses slightly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You want to call it a night and we'll pick up back here in the morning?"

He had to do a double-take. "Who are you and what have you d-done with, Lois Lane?"

"She went to bed a few hours back with her son…no seriously though, Clark, I think we both need to get a couple hours of sleep and take a look at this stuff int he morning when we're fresh. Does that sound good?"

"Do I have to answer that?" he asked half-jokingly, looking at her with tired eyes. _And I still have to take a quick look around the world…thank goodness I don't need eight hours of sleep like a normal person…_

She nodded at him in understanding, slipping on her heels before heading to her desk. "I'll see you in the morning then. Good night, Clark!" Lois said as cheerfully as she could muster. Once she was out of sight he dashed up to the roof and changed into his suit, carefully depositing his work clothes at his apartment before circumnavigating the globe.

A riot averted in China, a cable car disaster prevented in Switzerland, and a few hours sleep saw Superman at Lois' apartment very early the next morning. He slipped in to put Jason's bed together; he knew she wanted everything to be ready when he came home with her on Friday, and that with this latest development in the Luthor case she most likely wouldn't have the time to set it up herself. He put the coffee on too when he heard her rustling out of bed.

Lois moved as if sleepwalking, shuffling out of her bedroom and into the kitchen toward the coffee maker without even realizing that she hadn't been the one to turn it on. It wasn't until _after_ she'd taken her first big gulp out of her favorite mug that she saw the Man of Steel standing in the corner of her kitchen.

"AHH!!!!" she cried out, dropping the mug in her hands. He swooped over and caught it, a little of the scalding liquid splashing on his hand without injury. She jumped behind a kitchen chair and shakily took the mug as he passed it back to her.

"I'm sorry for startling you, Lois. I dropped in to see what kind of progress you'd made on the fishing boat raid and…I also thought I'd help you out by getting Jason's room ready for him."

She was still too groggy to form complete sentences, but she took a look around the corner to see that not only had her son's bed been assembled but that the rest of his clothes, books and toys were deposited in their rightful places as well.

"Um…er…thank you?"

"Don't mention it."

Lois took another large sip of her coffee before realizing that she was standing before Superman in nothing but an extra-extra large t-shirt.

"I'll, uh…just…"

"Lois, unless you bought a lead lined bathrobe recently I doubt it'd do you any good," he said teasingly.

"Oh right!" she exclaimed, her senses slowly returning to her.

He stole a look at her trim, exposed legs and almost wished he hadn't stopped her from getting that robe.

"What did you say you came here for again?" she asked, ending his train of thought.

"Uh…the fishing boat, what were you and Clark able to uncover?"

She sat down at the table and cradled the mug in her hands. He seated himself opposite her.

"A whole lot of paperwork and not much else I'm afraid. Come to mention it, you're buddy Chase down at City Hall was of no help whatsoever; you might want to have a talk with him, make sure he's got his head on straight. He tried to get us to believe that the missing Kryptonite and Luthor's money movement had nothing to do with one another. You should stop in on him." Clark had thought the same thing after yesterday's encounter and made a mental note to look into Special Agent Chase later on. He nodded in assent.

They sat for a moment at the kitchen table, creating an almost picturesque tableau of domesticity; she in her ratty night shirt with sleep tussled hair and cup of coffee on one end, he with his twinkling blue eyes and sprawling red cape on the other. It made them both let out a sigh full of longing. He got up to make his exit.

"I'll let you get ready for your day. Again, I'm sorry for bothering you."

"It's not a bother," she started to say. "It's just…it's not fair, you know? You sneaking in on to check on me when I can't reciprocate."

He looked deeply into her eyes before crossing the distance between them and kissing her full on the lips. "Soon, Lois," he half-murmured. "Soon." He was almost out the window when she found her voice again.

"Wait! I almost forgot… I know this is going to sound crass, but…well, Clark invited Jason and me to Smallville for the Fourth, and he said that you were giving him a lift and thought that maybe…"

"That maybe the Superman Shuttle could pick you two up as well?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Well when you put it like that it really does sound crass," she said half-mockingly.

"I'd be happy to. I think Jason will enjoy the time away from the City."

She surprised him by saying, "I think we both will." Clark stopped in his tracks. _Wait, what? __Lois Lane__ thinks she'll__**have fun**__ out in the country? No..._

"I'll uh…I'll be in touch. Good-bye, Lois," he said softly as he flew out the living room window.

* * *

Clark purposefully took his time getting to work that morning so as to arrive twenty minutes after Lois—he didn't want or need to draw any unwanted parallels between himself and his alter-ego's speedy arrivals and timing. She was already in the conference room, waving to him excitedly with several papers in her grip.

"Yes?" he asked, sticking his head in.

"Get in here, I think I got something." He moved into the room and shut the door behind him, manuevering around to look at the work she had highlighted.

"Ok, whoever is behind the Kryptonite mining went to a lot of trouble to bury this…"

"But I thought we agreed Lex Luthor was behind all of this. There can't possibly be anyone else who'd want _**that**_ much Kryptonite…"

"Wait, Clark, let me finish. So the boat was privately owned—we learned yesterday that it was a dummy name, _however_, the pier it was docked at was privately owned by Merchant Maritime Effects. This document you pulled proves that conclusively; none of the docking points connected to that pier could be used by a vessel that wasn't connected to MME."

"So MME is behind this?"

"Superman didn't give you a super jolt of caffeine like he did me this morning, did he?" she asked sarcastically. "No, there's more.

"This is where it got really convoluted yesterday. MME _used_ to be it's own company before declaring bankruptcy and being sold at auction. It was bought by another company that allowed it to retain the name, and the company that bought MME was owned by another larger company…"

"…and so on, and so forth," Clark chimed in.

"See? Now you're catching on. So we're looking for the, pardon the pun here, but the really big fish. The one that holds them all. And _**that**_ company is Marganic Science Incorporated."

"Wait a minute…" now it was his turn for a revelation. He dove into a pile of papers he'd left stacked on his side of the conference room table and pulled out an old photocopied _Planet _article. Moving back over to Lois, he began to read it aloud, "Incorporated in 2003, Marganic Science hopes to be the forerunner in maritime organic scientific research…their list of achievements to date range from an all natural kelp cosmetic mask to partial salt-water powered vehicles…Director of the Board _Nick Finneran…_" Clark stopped reading.

"Hey, why'd you stop just there? What is it?"

His brow was furrowed in concentration and anxiety. This new information wasn't a tie to Lex Luthor, but it didn't mean good news, either. "Lois, do you remember the Ergomex Scandal? From 2001?"

"Vaguely…I know it was one of the last pieces you did before you left and you got a Kerth award for it, but Perry had me paired up with Norm Palmer on something else at the time. Why?"

"It was an embezzlement scandal. Huge. The CFO was quietly stealing millions from everyone…from the janitor all the way up to the President of the Company."

"The guy must've been pretty brazen to pull something like that off."

"That guy was Nick 'The Financial Finagler' Finneran, now Director of the Board of Marganic Science." He paused before carrying on. "I helped put the guy away. The article I wrote exposed the fraud, but he caught wind of it's publication and was on his way to Tijuana before…before _Superman_ caught him. The prosecution called me in as one of their chief witnesses. They were so sure he was going to go away that I left on my, er, _trip_ before the verdict came in."

Lois had already moved to a computer at the other end of the room before he finished speaking to see what she could find on Nick Finneran. "Well it says here he was convicted on several counts of fraud…and sentenced to 27 months in a minimum security prison, plus 1,000 hours of community service and restitution to those harmed."

"Sounds like a slap on the wrist," Clark grumbled.

"That may be, but it also looks like he's come full circle since then. He was released after 21 months for good behavior, managed to impress the Japanese investors in Marganic in spite of his criminal record, and I happen to know for a fact that he's still performing charitable works in and around Metropolis despite fulfilling his community service quota."

"And how do you know that?"

Lois looked over at him matter-of-factly. "Because he's renovating the playground at Jason's school, along with the playgrounds at over a dozen other Metropolis elementary schools over the summer. Not to mention the Breast Cancer walk he sponsors each Spring, his time spent at food pantries, the money he's donated to Metropolis General's cardiac unit…his name has been in the _Planet_ for one thing or another practically every other month since his release. I'm surprised you never noticed it before."

"I had no reason to look for it before," he replied dejectedly. He lifted his hands up to his face and slid his palms under the glasses, rubbing his eyes. She crossed the room and gently laid an arm on his shoulder.

"Look, Clark," she said, trying to ease his anxiety, "I know you think this guy has a motive for going after Superman, but I don't think this is the lead that'll take us to Lex Luthor. It's got to be somewhere else in there," she pointed to the pile of papers before them. Clark just shook his head; he knew deep down that this was the conclusion they'd been searching for.

"No, Lois, it isn't…I…I don't know how to explain it, b-but it's him. It's Nick Finneran."

She sat down next to her partner and looked him in the eyes as he withdrew his hands. Granted, it was subtle, but he had never been so adamant with her in the whole time that they'd worked together.

"Ok then, here's what we'll do. We'll call his secretary and schedule an appointment for this afternoon to go talk to him, and if I'm not convinced that _**he is**_ our guy by the time the interview is over, than we'll drop it. If I am convinced, then we'll figure it out from there. Deal?"

He looked over at her gratefully and nodded.

"Good, you go find his office number and I'll make the appointment…but I still think you're in the wrong, Smallville," she called out to him as she exited the conference room.

Lois may not have been able to see past Nick 'The Finagler's' new image, but Clark knew he could, and he didn't even need x-ray vision to do it.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Metropolis,**_** June 20, 2007.** "I thought he told you NEVER to contact me unless it was an emergency!" the man screamed at him.

"But it _is_ an emergency! You don't understand! Those reporters, they were here in the building yesterday; it won't take them long before they figure it all out! You've got to do something!" the other man whined into the phone.

"No, I don't have to do _anything_…this is all part of the plan, we just thought it would be your people sniffing around."

"I told _him_ I had that angle covered; I'm stone-walling my ASS OFF OVER HERE!"

The calmer man sighed in exasperation. "How did you ever manage to get where you are today? Freaking out at the first sign of trouble…"

"Hey now, that's not fair! You'd be in a state too if you were in my position, surrounded like I am…"

"Save it for someone who cares, alright? And you better not call me here again unless you find yourself in some serious deep shit, understand!?!?" He slammed the receiver down.

* * *

_**Marganic Science Incorporated**_**, June 21, 2007.** Lois and Clark got off at the 25th floor precisely at 2 o'clock and headed straight for the reception desk in the middle of the expansive room. An attractive young woman sat behind the counter, wearing a telephone headset and answering incoming calls.

"Good afternoon, Nick Finneran's office, one moment please," she replied pleasantly before pressing a button in front of her. She turned upward to greet the newcomers.

"Good afternoon, my name's Jeanine, how can I help you today?" she asked politely.

"Yes, good afternoon, my name is C-Clark Kent, and this is my partner, Lois Lane, we have a…"

"A 2 o'clock appointment with Mr. Finneran, yes I remember. If you'll follow me this way please, he's in his office expecting you." She got up and strode to the door, with Lois following behind her and Clark hesitating briefly before falling in step.

Lois' eyes went wide at the size of the office and it's impressive view. She had expected nothing less grandiose after viewing the reception and waiting area, but Nick Finneran's workspace left her speechless. His chair had been facing the window, and he now swiveled around and walked over to meet them.

"Ms. Lane, Mr. Kent," he said, extending his hand and flashing a plastic-looking smile. He took Lois' hand and she snapped back to reality, then he turned to face Clark. "Mr. Kent, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you again, but given the circumstances of our last meeting…ah, well, what do you say we just call it water under the bridge? I've done my time, we've both moved on, and as you can see there's been no real harm done…" he gestured to the office behind him.

Clark just nodded, his teeth too clenched to allow speech. He suppressed a wild desire to crush the man's hand in his grip; he knew that no matter what else this man was NOT one to be trusted. Nick Finneran showed them over to two plush chairs before returning to his seat, folding his hands before him on the desk.

"I must admit, I was very intrigued when I learned that you sought an audience with me. May I ask what this is all about?"

Lois pulled out her recorder and Clark dug out his notepad while she fired off the first question, "Well, Mr. Finneran, since you want to get straight down to business…are you familiar with the MPD Narcotics raid that occurred down at the docks this past Monday evening?"

"Only peripherally, Miss Lane; I recall reading about it in your esteemed paper the following day, but I'm afraid I glossed over the article before turning to the financial pages," he flashed another mega-watt smile. This time though, Lois wasn't buying it.

"Mr. Finneran, we have reason to believe that the ship in question is connected to Marganic Science. What do you have to say to that?"

"I'd say that that's very likely," he replied quickly.

Clark jerked in his seat. "I'm sorry?"

"I said that that's very likely, Mr. Kent. We are a marine science-based company, and our research is not solely conducted in the lab. Situated in Metropolis, as we are, many of the vessels we contract out to for research purposes are based out of the very docks in question. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that at any given point in time we've been in control of anywhere from 35 to 80 percent of the boats out there. Now if the vessel you're referring to was directly connected to the Company than I would have to direct you over to our Legal Department…"

"No, it was owned by a subsidiary of a subsidiary, called Merchant Maritime Effects."

"I see. And what is it the authorities believed they were in possession of?"

Clark glared at him from across the table before responding, "Narcotics."

"Well that is most unfortunate indeed, that these people would resort to peddling drugs, but our company here has no way of knowing what they do with the boat when not accompanied by our personnel on company time. Now, unless you have any more questions, I'm afraid I'll have to show you out…I have some prospective investors coming in shortly."

Lois shut off the tape recorder and returned it to her purse before standing up to take Mr. Finneran's hand and show herself to the door. Clark did the same, squeezing a little too tightly just to satisfy himself, before vacating the office. Nick Finneran waited until the door shut behind them before gasping in pain, grabbing his throbbing right hand and cursing vehemently.

Neither reporter spoke until the elevator doors closed and they'd made it halfway down to the lobby.

"I don't like it…something's off, very off," Lois declared without turning to Clark. He nodded while shuffling in place, pleased that she was on board with him and that there would be no more needless paper trails to plow through. They strode through the lobby and out the front door, hailing a cab to take them directly back to the_Planet_.


	20. Chapter 20

_**FBI / MPD War Room, Makeshift Metropolis Headquarters,**_** "???". **He heard the door open and the click of a woman's heels draw closer to him.

"Hey," she said, placing a hand on his slumped shoulder.

"Hey," Lt. Henrickson replied as he turned to face Special Agent Woodrow.

"How are you holdin' up?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

"Let's just say I'm glad I'm not one of the Tech guys…I couldn't stand staying 30 seconds in there, and that last bout lasted a whole 35 minutes!" he cried out, slamming his fist down on the table. Al folded his arms and rested his head before whispering, "I don't know how much longer he can last. Every man has his breaking point and…and…you can see it in his eyes, Clarissa; he can't hang in there much longer."

She put her arm around his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment before refuting him.

"I think you're wrong…"

"You're just saying that because…"

"No really, I do! Look around you!" she gestured to the officers, both MPD and FBI alike, working furiously in other parts of the room. "And we've gotten close before, close enough to throw them off their game, even temporarily. Plus he's lasted this long, which is more a testament to his strength than anything else. He may not be aware of all that's going on here, but he has to know that we're coming for him, and soon."

She paused momentarily, letting her own words sink in and buoy her sagging spirits as well.

"We're close, we're so close I can feel it. Can't you?" He nodded in assent. "Good. Now you better go splash some water on your face—we're expected to give an update in 10 minutes." She watched him heave himself up and out the door to the men's room.

It wasn't until the door shut behind him that Special Agent Clarissa Woodrow muttered a silent prayer hoping she'd told Lt. Henrickson the truth.

* * *

_**Daily Planet**_**, June 21, 2007.** Lois wasted no time upon returning to the bullpen; she boldly walked right into the Chief's office as he was going over the next day's layouts. 

"Give us a minute, will you, Stan?" Perry asked the other man. He ducked out and Clark quickly slipped in.

"Lois, haven't you ever heard of knocking? Or do you think that just because I've gone and given you two an inch that you're going to get a mile?"

She ignored his questions. "Listen, Chief, we've got a hot story here and you're going to run with it in tomorrow's headline."

"I'll decide what to run with, Lane, now tell me what you two have been up to and why there's such a mess in my conference room." They caught him up on the research they'd done, tying the boat back to Nick Finneran and reminding Perry of the man's connection to the Ergomex Scandal, then they filled him in on their recent meeting with him.

"Let's go over everything one more time," he said, wagging his finger and pacing back and forth behind his desk. "A boat suspected of drug smuggling gets raided Monday night, only they find Kryptonite instead of heroin. The Task Force at City Hall then determines that over the last several weeks thousands of pounds of the green rock have been hauled ashore. We know that Luthor is active financially, but he's gone to ground. You two follow the boat, only to discover that it doesn't lead to Luthor, but to the Director of a multi-million dollar company with legitimate ties to over half the shipping vessels in Metropolis, and because of a minor prison record and a 'gut feeling', you think you've got your story. Am I getting this right?" Clark and Lois nodded, seated before their Chief like mute school children.

He sat back down at his desk. "I won't run with this."

"WHAT?!?" Lois cried out indignantly, as she and Clark both jumped up from their chairs.

"Lois, I've told you before, you need to get me _**hard-proof**_ here. The boat's connected to Marganic, so what? Finneran told you himself that he and his company can't be held accountable. He has a criminal record? Hell, _I _have a criminal record, are you going to tell me that now I'm wrapped up in this Kryptonite smuggling thing too? And you can't force a story based on a gut feeling Lois, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that! Kent, back me up here."

But Clark was now standing tall in front of his Editor-in-Chief's desk, arms folded across his torso. "I can't do that, Chief, I agree with Lois; Finneran's involved and we need to expose him."

Perry's eyes went wide as he took in Clark's imposing image. _Looks like a little bit of Lois is finally rubbing off on him…too bad it had to kick in now._ "You two have gone off the deep end; I'm pulling the plug on this story. Now clear your stuff out of the conference room and go home, I haven't got anything else for you today before I put the paper to bed," he said before returning to the mock-up in front of him. Clark and Lois stood there, both roused by Perry's quick dismissal, until Lois decided she'd had enough and exited the room in a huff, leaving Clark behind.

Without looking up, Perry said, "It's nice to see you're finally growing a backbone, Son, but don't think you're going to win your first bout in the ring. I've made my decision so you'd better give Lois a hand and call it an early night." Clark slunk back down and let out a weary sigh before following Lois to the conference room.

Their spirits hadn't improved much by the next morning, but Perry either didn't notice or didn't care. He sent them off to conduct an exclusive interview with Mayor Dunne about the Lex Luthor manhunt and City Hall's organized efforts to that end. They didn't get much more out of him than the odd sound bite, just like every other news outlet in Metropolis had received in the last several weeks, leaving the duo feeling just as dejected as before they left.

They arrived back on the bullpen floor to discover that Richard had shown up with Jason in tow. Lois snuck up behind her son and scooped him up in a big bear hug.

"Hey there, Little Guy! I missed you!!!" she exclaimed, kissing him squarely on the cheek.

"I missed you too," he replied, wrapping his arms around her neck. They stood like that a moment, oblivious to the office hubbub and the fact that Richard and Clark were staring at them both with a mixture of love and sadness.

Richard coughed. "Hello, Lois."

"Richard." The bullpen finally caught up with them, hoping to catch a repeat performance of their last fight. Clark could hear her heart pump the adrenaline through her veins, but she kept a cool demeanor. He walked over to his desk unseen by either of them while maintaining his eye on both should things get out of hand.

"Thank you for watching him."

"It was no problem. We had fun, didn't we, Munchkin?" Richard asked, tousling the boy's hair. Jason nodded. "Anyhow, I brought his backpack and duffel bag and left them in my office. His backpack was extra heavy…"

"Yeah Mommy, it's _really _heavy—I have all my end of year school stuff in it, but I carried it all by myself!" he flexed a muscle and smiled proudly at her before exclaiming "Oh!" and squirmed in her arms until she put him down. In a flash he took off for Richard's office while the adults stood there awkwardly.

"Like I said, thanks again…"

"Really, Lois, don't mention it, it was fine." The silence in the normally chaotic room was deafening.

Lois spoke first, "So when do you head back out?"

"Monday. I'm going to be embedded with the troops in Iraq, so I may be gone quite awhile." He said this as matter-of-factly as he could, but she knew that while he welcomed the excitement there was a larger part of him that was frightened at the prospect; she knew because she was deathly afraid for him also. Lois reached over and squeezed one of the arms he had folded across his chest.

"You take care of yourself over there, ok?"

Richard looked up at her and managed a half-smile. "I will."

"Look Mommy!" Jason ran over to her with a crumpled looking picture in his hands. "I did this in art class and the teacher said it was really like him and told me I had a good eye." Lois looked at the piece before her; it was yet another Superman drawing, but this time the Man of Steel was floating on his back above the clouds, a smiley faced sun in the upper left hand corner.

"That's amazing, Baby! Why don't you go put it on my desk for safekeeping and we'll hang it up in the apartment later, ok?" Jason scurried over to her seat.

The two former lovers stood there in the middle of the aisle a moment longer, not knowing how to erase the uneasiness between them. "Well, I'll be going," Richard said, leaning over and giving her a chaste peck on the cheek. "Good-bye, Lois. Take care."

"You too," she replied in a voice barely above a whisper. He turned back toward his office and she lingered a moment longer, mourning the end of 'them'. Clark watched unobserved, knowing he'd have to wait awhile longer before revealing his secret to her. They were both making progress to their shared end-goal, albeit at a snail's unenviable pace.

Lois turned back to her son and she and Clark finished the article on the interview with Mayor Dunne early so that she could take Jason home to her new place. Clark remained in the office awhile longer in a vain attempt to connect Finneran and Luthor so that they'd have an angle to pursue for Perry, but he came up empty-handed. The story was all but forgotten by the next week; at least, by everyone save the two journalists it most directly effected.

And before they knew it, July came.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Metropolis**_**, July 3, 2007.** "The essentials are in-place at the Rordenville property, Sir; we still need to integrate the extra-security measures but they should be set-up by early next week," Finneran said into the phone.

"That is most excellent to hear," the raspy-voiced man replied. "And our other locations?"

"They should all be fully stocked and up and running within the next two and a half weeks as well."

"Exactly according to schedule…well done, Mr. Finneran!" Nick smiled to himself; this was the most pleased he'd ever heard his partner. "My contribution to Section 13 is progressing ever so marginally, given the incompetence of the men I'm working with, but how about yours? You know that one won't work without the other."

"It is still right on target, Sir."

"You have made me an exceedingly happy man, Nick…and if all goes well I'll show you that I haven't forgotten that fact. Good night."

* * *

_**Smallville**_**, July 3, 2007.** Superman flew over to Lois' apartment early in the afternoon to find her getting Jason ready for their trip to Clark Kent's boyhood home. 

"Jason, did you remember to pack your jammies?"

"Yes Mom!"

"And did you put your tooth brush in there?"

"Yes Mom!"

"What about Mr. Sky Captain? Did you remember to bring him?" she called out, giving Superman a knowing wink as they stood together in the living room.

"OH!" and off scampered Jason down the hall to his room. He reappeared a moment later clutching the figurine.

"Is everyone ready now?" Superman asked. Both passengers nodded in mock gravitas. Scooping Jason up in his left arm and cradling Lois gently in his right he strode over to the window.

"Wait!" his son cried out. "What about my bag?"

"Don't worry, I'll be back to get it along with Clark after I drop you two off." He winked conspiratorially at his son before taking off out the window near the alleyway. They flew at a leisurely pace and arrived on Martha Kent's doorstep fifteen minutes later; without bothering to knock the Man of Steel deposited his wards and flew off again. Martha came bustling out a moment later.

"Lois! I'm so glad you could come! I thought I heard some noise out here," she walked over and gave the young woman a hug, then stooped down to Jason's eye level. "And who is this handsome young man?" she asked teasingly.

"I'm Jason Wh—_Lane_," he replied shyly, momentarily forgetting what his Mom had told him before about his new last name. However, he did remember to hold out his hand like she'd taught him to do. Martha took it in hers and held it there tenderly, resisting the grandmotherly urge to scoop him up in her arms and squeeze the stuffing out of him.

"It's very nice to meet you, Jason," she said, briefly choking on her words before remembering herself. "I'm Martha, but if you want to while you're here you can call me Auntie M."

His eyes went wide. "Kind of like in The Wizard of Oz?" he asked.

She laughed. "You're very bright for your age, did you know that?" Lois put a hand on his head as he shrugged his shoulders. A dog barked from the doorway of the house. "Is that Shelby?! Mr. Clark told me about her. Can I go play with her?" he asked with pleading in his eyes. The dog came and stood next to Martha as she heard her name mentioned. Jason pet her on her head.

"You sure can, just don't go too far; she's gettin' old and tires easy," Martha replied, putting a hand next to her mouth and saying to Lois, "Like me." They shared a chuckle as a red, blue and yellow streak caught their eye. It landed behind the barn and took off just as quickly.

"Oh that must be, Clark!" Lois said, heading in the direction where Superman had just taken off. _I wonder why Superman didn't stick around…_she thought. Luckily, she was too preoccupied to see the white and blue streak rush toward the scene from a nearby grove of trees. Clark rounded the corner, his hair tousled and glasses on, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans and carrying all their luggage.

"Hey guys!" he called out as casually as could be. He struggled with two large suitcases in one hand, a smaller child-sized version in the other, and a backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Hey! Did you have a good flight?" Lois asked mischievously, helping him with his burden.

"Oh, you know," he said, smirking at her. "Besides, L-Lois, it's not like I haven't flown before."

"Oh Clark…" she rolled her eyes at him, making him grin all the more. They soon came into view of Martha, who was sitting on the front steps watching Jason play fetch with Shelby.

"Hi Mr. Clark!" the boy replied, waving while Shelby eyed the ball poised in his other hand. He tossed the ball in his parent's direction.

"Hey yourself! You l-look like you made a…a new friend!" Shelby bounded after the toy and ran smack into him. Looking up and recognizing the face of one of her masters, she quickly hopped up on his leg. "Hey Girl, be good now," he said gently to the canine. She got down and ran over to the ball and obediently back to the boy.

Clark kept on walking toward the house with Lois beside him. "Hi Mom, I'm going to show Lois inside."

"Alright Dear, I'll just be a minute longer." She squeezed her son's hand as he went by but her eyes remained fixed on Jason. He gripped back in understanding.

Clark nudged the door open with his foot and tried to fit inside the doorway beside Lois and with all the bags in tow.

"Here, wait…"

"Let me just…

"Ow, Lois, that was my foot!"

"Drop your shoulder and I'll…"

"I'm almost in…"

"Watch out!"

They both stumbled into the front entryway and fell to the floor, their bags and other accoutrements flying every which way. Lois grasped for a backpack and discovered Clark's glasses underneath.

She passed them behind her back without looking at him, quickly retrieving Jason's suitcase. "Here, you must be blind as a bat without these."

His mouth went dry at the sight of the glasses, unaware that they'd tumbled off his nose. This time, the stutter wasn't forced. "T-th-thanks." Placing them squarely back on his face he got the other bags and they both stood up at the same time.

_What has gotten into him? He's looking at me so oddly…_Lois wondered as they stood uncomfortably in the hallway. "So, where do you want me to…?" she held up the bags in her hands.

"Oh right! Uh, follow me…" He traipsed up the stairs of his country home and showed her into the guest room where she and Jason would be staying. "The bathroom is across the hall, and there are extra towels and blankets o-over there," he pointed to the closet opposite the bed. Lois examined the room, placing the bags on the comforter and running her hand over the homemade quilt as she crossed the room to the windows overlooking the front yard. She watched Jason at play.

Clark sighed to himself. The trip had been a good idea; he saw Lois visibly relax, the stress of the Luthor campaign already melting off her shoulders—and she'd only been there twenty minutes.

"So where's your room?"

He nearly choked. "Uh…excuse me?"

She turned to face him, a giggle at his embarrassment framing itself on her lips. "In case we need anything, where will you be sleeping?"

"R-r-right d-down the hall." He pointed.

In half a second Lois scooted around him and made off in the direction of Clark's room.

"LOIS!" he cried out in alarm; he wasn't sure if his Mother had remembered to hide any extra Superman paraphernalia before their arrival.

Lois didn't know what had come over her; she felt as frisky and impish as a teenager. She hadn't had a chance to view Clark's old room on her last 'visit', so she threw back the doors and surveyed the room before her.

Her partner's twin-sized bed was settled near two windows overlooking the barn. His ceiling had glow in the dark stars, while the wall-paper covering the room was littered with images of galloping cowboys, contradicting the sight of the toy robots that stood atop his bookcase, desk and amongst various family photos. Clark peered over her shoulder, relieved to find that it was devoid of all things Superman. Lois strode over to one particular photograph of a man and a teenage boy leaning against a fence post and held it up to examine it closer.

He put his bag on the bed. "That's my Dad," he said in a slightly lower voice, startling her as he spoke from behind her shoulder. She saw the sadness that flitted across his crystal blue eyes as he viewed the image. "This was taken about a year before he died." She turned to face him and he took the picture from her willingly.

"I'm so sorry, Clark," she said, her mouth tantalizingly close to his. He made a slight movement, as if to close the gap, then stopped. _I'm not the one she's in love with…yet…_he had to remind himself. Clark turned back to the picture.

"It was a long time ago."

"CLARK? LOIS? Are you two hungry? I've got a snack all ready!" Martha called to them from downstairs. He surreptitiously tipped his glasses and x-rayed the floor below. Jason was already digging into a mound of sugar cookies his Mother had made that morning in the kitchen and she was reveling in delight of being able to spoil her only grandson.

"Come on," he said, nudging Lois, "Or Jason will eat all the cookies before we get there."

She eyed him quizzically. "How do you know your Mom made cookies?"

_Not again!_ "Oh, you know…it's her s-specialty." He tripped on the rug for good measure on his way toward the door.

She lingered in the room a moment longer, pondering over a thought that she'd only just now let herself admit to; she was becoming strangely attracted to Clark Kent.

* * *

The next day the unwitting family headed into Town for the 4th of July parade, meeting up with Ben Hubbard's family who followed them back for the barbecue. Like Martha, Ben was a widower with a grown and married daughter, and the families had grown quite close in the last few years since Clark's absence. Clark liked the man, but he couldn't get used to the way he hung around his Mother; his gestures toward her reminded him of his Father, and yet were wholly unlike him, all of which irked Clark. He did his best to suppress a grimace. 

After they returned Clark and Martha headed inside to get the food ready while the guests sat in lawn chairs in the front yard. Jason was secreted away in Clark's old tree house, pretending he was an astronaut in a spaceship, with Martha keeping an eye on him out the kitchen window in case he should get into trouble.

Ben gazed out over the fields and took a sip of his lemonade. "Are you enjoying your visit better this time, Miss Lane?" he asked the woman beside him.

"I'm sorry? Oh…oh you mean…" she blushed with embarrassment at the thought of her last trip out here.

He smiled at her. "It's a small town, Miss Lane, but you did a fair good write up on Clark, so we're liable to forgive you. I know Martha already has."

"Thank you, Mr. Hubbard…and please, call me Lois."

An old station wagon was seen making it's way up the drive just then, and Ben stood up to greet the latest additions to the party. A pretty blond woman got out, followed by her tall brunette husband, and their three children.

"Marilyn, Marilyn come here, I want you to meet a friend of Clark's from work. Marilyn, this is Lois Lane; Lois, this is my daughter Marilyn and her husband, David Crowe. And these are my grandkids, Samantha, Davey and Katie."

"Nice to meet you," the grown-ups said, shaking hands all around. Samantha, all of 13 years, stood sullenly listening to loud rap music blasting out her IPod. Davey, their ten year old, was a little on the shy side, while six year old Katie scrambled to get a hug from her Grandpa. Just then Jason rounded the corner in search of his Mom.

"Grandpa, who's that?" the little girl asked.

Lois piped up. "That's my son, Jason. He'll be six in September."

Katie dropped down to the ground and ran over to Jason.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Want to play?" the little girl asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Ok." They ran off toward the barn.

"Stay away from the equipment!!!" both Moms yelled after them. Marilyn turned to Lois with a chuckle and said, "Didn't take you long, I see." They both laughed.

While everyone was getting acquainted outside, Martha moved busily about the kitchen getting the meat ready to be cooked. Clark stood by the table, putting the finishing touches on the salad, when his Mom turned and asked him to start the grill. He picked up the tray, headed out the back door where the old charcoal grill sat, stared at it, then turned back into the house.

"Um, Mom?"

"Yes?"

"How do I start it?"

"What do you mean, how do you start it?"

"The grill, how do I start the grill?"

"Honestly, Clark, now's not the time to be a practical joker…"

"No really! Dad used to do it, and then when it was just us I…you know…" he tipped his glasses to indicate the use of his heat vision, "…and I just don't remember what I'm supposed to do."

"OH! Oh I see…Hmm..." She stopped gathering the condiments together and looked out at the backyard where the charcoal bag and lighter fluid were. "Here's what you do; take the grate off and stack the charcoal in a pyramid formation. Then you'll want to coat the charcoal in lighter fluid, and make sure you coat it real well. After that you might want to use your…you know…and let the fire burn the coals until they're white hot. Once that's done you slip the grate over it and put the meat on. Got it?" But he was already out the door before she had finished, the lick of orange flame indicating that he'd gotten everything squared away.

Thirty minutes later everybody congregated in the backyard for hot dogs and burgers.

"Martha, thanks again for inviting us over," David said as everyone dug into the food.

"Oh nonsense, you're practically family! I'm just glad you could come; Ben's told me how you hate to tear yourself away from the farm." David's land was adjacent to his father-in-law's and Ben always admired the hard work ethic his son-in-law had.

"Yes, well, to meet the infamous Clark Kent and Lois Lane I think I could tear myself away," he said, winking at his wife. She and Clark had been classmates back at Smallville High and were swapping stories and cracking up along with Lois at the other end of the table. The kids seemed to be having a good time too, except for Samantha, who maintained a gloomy countenance all through the meal.

When the dishes had been cleared away and everyone sat digesting, Marilyn and David took the opportunity to ask Lois more about her work. That's when their eldest daughter finally spoke up.

She looked over at Lois. "So, what's he like?"

Lois looked at Samantha startled; she hadn't even known the girl had teeth a moment ago, let alone that she was capable of speech. "What was that? What's who like?"

"Superman. What's he like? You write about him all the time."

_Talk about awkward…_"Well, he's a good man, not to mention he's saved me on more than one occasion and he's a very gracious interviewee."

"Yeah, but is he a good kisser?" she asked nonchalantly. _And it just got worse! _Lois thought as the words left the girl's mouth.

"Samantha!" her parents and grandfather balked.

"What? I'm just asking…" They heard the back door close and saw Clark standing still on the steps looking extremely confused. _Just what did I miss here…?_

"I don't believe that that is an appropriate question…"

"But you have kissed him, right? Does he take you out on dates? Or do you guys…"

"Young Lady, that is ENOUGH!" her father yelled from across the table, stopping her in mid-question.

"Hey don't look at me! It's not like you all weren't dying to ask the same questions! Everyone knows she and Superman are close, I just came right out with it."

_She is just determined to make everyone uncomfortable, isn't she? Although I probably wasn't much different at that age… _Lois looked around the table and tried to salvage the afternoon. "Samantha, Superman and I have a professional relationship as well as a very good friendship; nothing more." Despite knowing that she was lying Clark tuned in to her beating heart and noted the elevated rhythm, indicating what she really thought about their 'friendship'. He smirked in spite of himself.

A deadly quiet had settled over the table as Clark strode over. "So, anyone up for some coffee and dessert?"

* * *

Ben and his family left a few hours earlier and now the Kents and the Lanes were gathering on the East side of the yard before the fireworks show began. Lois wrapped her arms around herself and surveyed the gorgeous landscape before her. 

"Are you having a good time?" a voice asked from behind her.

She smiled. "Yes…I can't thank you enough for inviting us here, Clark. Smallville really is amazing…"

His jaw dropped in mock surprise. "Do mine ears deceive me? Did Lois Lane just say that S-Smallville, the 'Nowheresville Hay-seed Town', was amazing?"

"Ha ha ha. Yes, I know I used to give you a hard time, but just being out here makes me really appreciate the lifestyle. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade Metropolis for anything, but country living has it's perks too."

"You better watch out, L-Lois…those words might c-come back to haunt you," he said, barely able to contain the excitement in his voice.

"I'll take my chances." They let out a hearty laugh.

Jason ran over and tugged on his father's pant leg. "Mr. Clark, when are the fireworks going to start?"

"Soon Buddy, soon…" he said, when an idea struck him. "Say, you want to get a better view?" Jason's eyes went wide, thinking they were going to go flying again, but this time in front of his Mom. Without a second thought Clark scooped the boy up and over his head, sitting him atop his tall broad shoulders and taking a step forward into the yard as the first burst of blue and gold exploded in the night sky.

Lois watched their silhouettes as the colors burst in the distance and wondered at how easily Clark and Jason had taken to one another. Her other colleagues at the _Planet _had barely tolerated Jason, but Clark was special—he didn't patronize him or shoo him out of the way. It filled her heart to the brim knowing that there were two good men out there looking after her and her son. She walked over and put a hand on Clark's shoulder.

Martha sat on the porch, taking in the view; only her eyes weren't focused on the colors in the night sky but on the family before her…_my family…_she thought to herself…_if only they'll give themselves the chance to be happy_.

* * *

**A/N:** Two quick things and then I'll let you all go enjoy your respective weekends. 

1.) In L. Frank Baum's book The Wizard of Oz, the aunt is called Auntie Em and not Auntie M, but I thought the fact that they were similar sounding and both resided in Kansas was too ironic to pass up.

2.) That scene with Clark and the grill I added to the story after an experience I had hosting my first BBQ this summer. I won't go into details about _that_ get together, but I thought it would be fun to add here to make this chapter light and goofy given what's to come…


	22. Chapter 22

_**Metropolis**_**, August 24, 2007.** "Section 13 is complete, Sir. We had some minor trouble with a building inspector at our target site, but our man inside was able to take care of the situation before it grew out of control," Nick said into the receiver.

"Understood. Section 13 is finished on our end as well."

"When do you want to make the move?"

"We'll implement the plan on Thursday, September 6th, at 1300 hours. Until 24 hours before that time we shall maintain radio silence—do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good."

* * *

_**Daily Planet**_**, Metropolis, August 24/25, 2007. **Lois and Clark had returned to the office after the 4th of July holiday better friends and in better spirits than when they had left. Had Jimmy not known Clark to be an extremely honorable man he would have suspected the two of indulging in certain '_extracurricular_' activities while in Smallville, but he quickly pushed the thought out of his mind.

When he first returned to work a year ago, Clark thought his life couldn't have gotten any worse. The love of his life was with another man, they had a child together, and with them had gone all his hopes for a 'normal' life. 365 days later he was living a distorted version of his dream; he had a relationship with Lois as both Superman _and_ Clark Kent, and he also had an active role in his son's life; he was practically floating on Cloud Nine.

However, his personal fulfillment didn't distract him from his 'other' duties. Despite Perry's quick dismissal of their theory that Finneran was connected to Lex Luthor, Superman still managed to keep an eye and an ear on him as often as he could spare them in case the man slipped up. He also patrolled the skies daily and nightly in search of Luthor and the 15,000+ pounds of missing Kryptonite. A small part of Clark hoped that whoever was in possession of the green rocks was unaware of their power over him, while his more pragmatic side knew this was not the case. He would often return to his apartment in the wee hours of the morning and on the verge of exhaustion and with nothing to show for his efforts. After a particularly discouraging afternoon and early evening he decided to catch up with Lois and Jason, knowing that just being near them would help bolster his mood.

"Daddy!" Jason shouted and jumped up off the floor as the Man of Steel landed in the living room. He scooped the boy up in his arms and gave him a hug. Lois felt the gush of air as her son ran by her and turned around in time to see Superman grab him.

"Hey you," she said, getting up to give him a hug and a kiss.

"Hi," he replied shyly. The closeness had grown between them as well in the passing weeks and he knew it was time to come clean.

They moved over to the couch. "So, how've you been?"

"Oh, you know, same old same old. Do you want something to drink?"

"Some water would be great thanks."

Lois looked at their boy. "Jason, would you go get your Father some water?" she asked, winking at him. He scrambled out of his Dad's arms and super-sped into the kitchen. "There's something I think you should see…"

"Lois, can we talk? I have something…" just then Jason sped back into view.

"Daddy, watch this!" he cried. Taking a deep breath, Jason held the glass out in front of his face and blew on it. An icy frosting coated the glass and they all watched as part of the drink solidified.

"WOW! That's great, Kiddo, I'm SO proud of you! Come here!" Superman said, hugging and kissing Jason while taking the glass offered to him and placing it on the table. Turning to Lois, he asked "When did he learn how to do that?"

"Just yesterday. He asked me to teach him how to whistle and I felt his breath get really cold on my cheek. I figured this was probably the one and only power I'd be able to help him with, so he's been practicing all day on the off-chance you'd swing by." Leaning over to where he sat and whispering in his ear, she added, "My drinking glasses can attest to it too. He accidentally shattered most of them while practicing for you."

"That's the hazard of living with a half-Kryptonian I guess," Superman gushed, tickling the boy in his lap. The child's laughter filled the apartment and Lois marveled at the easy interaction between father and son. A quick look at the clock though informed her that they had to break up this little party.

"Jason, it's time for bed," she gently reminded him.

"But Moooooooom…."

Superman intervened. "Listen to your Mother, Jason, and if I'm not called away before you're done, I'll read you a story before you go to sleep, ok?" At the promise he jumped off his Father's lap and sped off into the bathroom.

"Lois, I wanted to talk…"

She cut him off. "You might want to talk to him about that you know."

"About what?"

She smirked at him. "Isn't it obvious? The super-speeding thing."

"I thought it was ok if it was in the house and it's just around us."

"It is, within reason, but he's getting a little too fast when he's running around at the park and I'm afraid other people will start to notice."

"I'll remind him about that—I know we discussed it before, about how diligent he has to be, but we need to remember that he's not yet six years old and he's going to want to show off a little."

"I know, I just worry, and especially with Luthor still on the loose…by the way, has there been any news on that front? Have you found the Kryptonite?" she asked in a worried tone.

"No I haven't found it. And our friends at City Hall have been trying to follow Luthor's money trail but they just keep getting stone-walled by international agencies."

"What about the Finneran angle?"

"It's one of about two dozen leads they're sorting through right now, Lois. You told me yourself that you and Clark had to wade through several feet of paperwork to get to Finneran, and although I trust your gut feeling, the MPD and FBI don't feel the same way. They're following every tributary that that paper trail leads to, and it's…"

"Ready!" Jason said, the navy blue pajama-clad blur stopping before them. Lois shot Superman a look as he got up and followed his son into the back of the apartment to his bedroom. Ten minutes later he emerged, gently closing the door behind him.

"What did you read to him?" she called out while flipping through the TV channels until she hit upon the news.

"The Seven Chinese Brothers. He fell asleep a little before the end though."

"It's one of his new favorites…I think it has something to do with the powers," she said teasingly. He stood behind her on the couch.

"Lois, there's something I want to tell you…" he stopped as loud anguished cries reached his ears. At the same time a man on the television was reporting a mine collapse in Western Mexico where 11 people appeared to be trapped below the rubble.

"Go," she told him. "We'll be here." He bent down to kiss her and she leaned up to meet his lips before he sped off through the night toward the site of the disaster.

* * *

The rescue effort in Mexico took longer than he had originally anticipated that evening and since that time no other opportunities had presented themselves for telling Lois the truth. _But since things are going so well, why rock the boat?_ he reasoned internally. And that was how things stood between Lois and Clark that Saturday, the day she'd promised to take Jason to his first ever baseball game. She invited Clark to tag along since he had a better grasp of the game then she did and he could answer all of her son's questions, but also because both Lanes enjoyed his company. The boys wore identical outfits: khaki shorts with the white team jersey with red piping, while Lois wore jean shorts and a red team t-shirt and matching baseball cap. They sat in the outfield bleachers, the best seats Lois could afford with her single income, to watch the Metropolis Meteors play the Gotham Grinders.

Very few things in life left Lois Lane speechless, and the same could be said for Jason—an attribute that Clark found altogether endearing in the two people he loved most. What he discovered as they stepped out into the sunlight at Spiegel Stadium that day was that this was one of those moments.

Jason's bright blue eyes widened so much that his parents thought the rest of his face would disappear. He soaked in the deep green of the field, inhaled the scent of peanuts, hot dogs and cheap beer, and marveled at the texture of the red plastic seats in a way that only a child could. His Mother gave him a moment, watching him take it all in, before guiding him to their section, smiling at him all the while.

Lois took the innermost seat, placing Jason squarely in the middle and giving Clark and his ungainly long legs the end seat by the stairs. The boy was still enraptured by his surroundings, so the two adults proceeded to talk around him.

"Hey Clark, I was thinking…"

He groaned jokingly. "Uh-oh…"

"Very funny. No seriously, I know we agreed no shop talk today, but this is important. You remember that fishing boat raid we investigated about two months back?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well it hit me the other day, as I was working on a different project, what we missed when we spoke to him. Finneran maintained that his _company_ wasn't connected to what the boat was hauling in, but what if _he_ was? If he pulled the strings, not Marganic, and he just used the corporation to hide behind, then there'd have to be a money trail somewhere."

Clark sat in thought momentarily before responding. "That's a good p-point, Lois, but you're forgetting who we're talking about here. He was n-named the 'Financial Finagler' for a reason. If the Police haven't discovered anything, um, anything connecting him, than I doubt they ever will."

"I guess," but he could tell by her dejected tone that Mad Dog Lane wouldn't be through chewing this bone for awhile.

Jason, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly jerked his head to the left, pointed, and cried out "LOOK!"

The team mascot, Moxie the Meteor was making the rounds through the section beside them. The character was a black foam rubber meteor, wearing a blue ball cap and having baseballs for eyes and a red-lipped smile. The legs wore white baseball pants with red and white socks up to the knee and baseball cleats.

"Would you like to meet Moxie up close, Jason?" Clark asked. The boy nodded in reverence to the eccentric creature. He stood up to take him over to the line waiting to shake Moxie's hand.

"Wait, I want to get a picture of this," she said, whipping out a disposable camera. Clark eyed the antiquated device.

"I can't work those new digital ones. Jimmy's shown me at least a hundred times and I still end up getting my finger caught in the frame or deleting all my best pictures. This way I know for sure they're in there," she replied to his unasked question.

They got in line, and when their turn came, a woman behind them asked if they wanted to get a picture of the whole family. They both jumped simultaneously.

"Oh we're not…"

"…we're just friends"

The woman simply smiled. "That's fine, but would you still like your picture taken together?" Lois agreed and handed over the cardboard box. She and Jason stood on one side of the character while Clark stood on the other. Lois couldn't tell if it was the odd angle of the sun or not, but she thought Clark was positively beaming.

Little did she know how that picture would come to haunt her in the coming months.

They returned to their seats in time to remain standing for the National Anthem before the game began. Jason's voice finally returned to him and he peppered his father for answers throughout the game. He had a decent understanding of baseball, considering he was nearly six years old, but Clark decided then and there to get him a book in addition to the glove, bat and ball he had sitting in his closet waiting to be wrapped for the boy's birthday next month. _I can't believe he's going to be six already, and I missed so much of that time. But I'm here now; I can make it up to him, up to both of them._

By the bottom of the fifth inning Jason seemed to grasp the major concepts of the game better and he could follow along without having to be told what was going on. He was wholly focused on the action when the moment came that would prove to be Clark Kent's undoing.

Andrew Ketter, the first baseman for the Meteors, was at bat, when Lois reached over to get Clark's attention. "I'm thinking of getting a soda, do you want anything?"

Ketter's bat connected squarely with the ball.

"No thanks, Lois, I'm fi…" Had he been paying more attention, Clark would have heard the baseball traveling at great speed coming right at him, and he would have had a chance to react. However, he was lost in Lois' gaze, and the foul ball swiped the side of his head, smashing the plastic side piece and shattering the lens on that side of his face.

Lois yelped and jumped to her feet, her hands fluttering to her mouth in shock. "CLARK!" He reached his hands up to cover his eye while holding the remainder of his eyepiece in place.

"Uh…uh…I'm alright…it j-just s-s-side-swiped me, that's all…I'll g-go to the men's room and wash up…be back in a second!" Without waiting for her to respond he leapt to his feet, down the stairs, and inside the stadium.

She hadn't believed a word he said, and made up her mind to follow after him to make sure he was alright. "Jason, you stay right here, do you understand me? Don't. Move." He nodded without protest, clearly frightened out of his wits. Lois stepped over her Son and felt the glass from Clark's lens shatter still more as made her way to the stairs. _Oh I hope he's really alright…_she said as she picked her way inside the stadium.

Luckily, most of the people were still in their seats, leaving Clark alone with a handful of vendors and the occasional person plodding to or from one of the restrooms. With his back to field he took his hands away from his face and looked at the fragments of what had once been his most clever disguise. _How am I going to explain this_? His mind cried out at the sight. '_Gee, Lois, I had a spare pair right here, just in case this should happen.' She'd never buy that in a million years…what am I going to do?_

"CLARK!" her frantic voice called out from behind him. He hastily put the functional remnant of his glasses back on his face while covering his left eye with his hand.

"L-Lois, I'm fine, really, I j-just need to splash some c-cold water on it. I'm fine."

But Emergency Mom Mode had kicked in and she was not about to give in without examining the injury herself to ascertain how 'fine' he was.

"I'll be the judge of that, now take your hands away from your face, I need to see if any glass got in your eye," she stood inches away from him, her hands on his wrists.

"No really I…"

"Just let me see you, Clark!"

After another moment's hesitation, he submitted. His hands fell away from his face and he squared his shoulders back, giving himself almost another two inches in height. She gasped outright, all concern for his eye forgotten as she stepped back and took in his visage.

It was in that moment that Lois Lane finally saw him.

He tried to speak. "I…I…"

Unfortunately for him, her voice was working just fine and she let him know it. "I what, Clark?!? Stop stuttering for crying out loud! I know it's all an act now, so just cut it out!"

"That wasn't an act j-just now," he half muttered under his breath. She glared at him, nostrils flaring, hands on hips…he noted how her heart rate skyrocketed into the danger zone.

"I wanted to tell you…I tried to tell you, but…"

She cut him off. "But what?!?! I've been trying to get you to tell me since I discovered Jason's true paternity, so PLEASE, _tell me_, how have you been trying to tell me?!?!"

"I'm sorry. I never meant for things to happen this way…"

"No kidding. That's the understatement of the year! And calling me a brilliant investigative reporter is an oxymoron..." Clark didn't try to explain himself, just let her bore holes in him with her eyes. His emotions were in such a jumble that he wouldn't have known what to say even if he did decide to speak.

Quietly, she asked. "Who else knows?"

"Only my Mother and…"

"Your Mother, of course your Mother would know, Clark!" she flung the cap off her head and grasped her hair exasperatedly before tearing into him again. "My God, how could I have been so stupid! It was just a pair of glasses…" she grabbed the pieces out of his hand and smashed them on the ground. Clark looked beyond her and saw Jason heading towards them; he'd grown worried by their absence, and frightened enough by it to come looking for his parents despite his Mother's explicit orders. She followed his gaze and turned around to see their son.

_Our son.__How could I not see the resemblance before?!?_

"Jason, do you know who this is?" she asked without thinking.

Hoping to diffuse the situation somewhat, he replied, "Of course, that's, Mr. Clark."

"No, Jason, do you know who this _really_ is?" Clark shot him a sympathetic look and the boy stared guiltily at his feet, scratching one foot with the toe of the other and not responding.

"Oh my God…" she turned her attention back to Clark, "How long has _he_ known?"

"Um, he uh…he sort of figured it out after I…after I got back. When the Genesis rescue was all over TV."

She took off her baseball cap and ran a hand frantically through her hair. _How could I have missed this?!?!? How in the HELL could I have missed this?!?!_ She chanced another look at Clark, the shock and hurt commingling on her face.

Deciding to act rather than be made a fool of any longer, she turned to Jason and said simply "We're leaving." Both boys started to protest in the same tone of voice, serving to irritate her further.

"Lois, you don't have to go, I'll go, it's my…"

"But Mommy, I don't want to leave…"

"NO BUTS, JASON, WE'RE LEAVING NOW!" she screamed, her fury at Clark finally boiling over. "And YOU!" she jammed a finger into his impenetrable chest and winced as it met steel. "JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME, CLARK, OR KAL-EL…"

"Lois, not so loud!" he hissed.

"…OR WHOEVER THE HELL YOU ARE, JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME AND MY SON, DO YOU HEAR ME?!?!?" Lois yelled, turning and scooping up her crying child before bolting for the nearest exit.

Clark stood alone in the concrete hallway, the echoing of her footsteps and Jason's sobs the only sounds reaching his ears. He knew, then and there, that Lois discovering who he really was in the manner in which she had was the third biggest mistake he'd ever made in his life; erasing her memory and returning to Krypton on a fool's errand only barely eclipsing this latest blunder.

It was also on that day that his life's happiness shattered along with his glasses.

* * *

**A/N: **I know that in an actual ballpark someone in Clark's position would NEVER be left ignored/unattended by stadium staff, but I've had this reveal playing out in my head since the story's inception and he and Lois would not have been able to have their "Oh My" moment if medical/ballpark personnel were present. With that said, what do you all think? Was it a good, bad, or mediocre reveal? Please hit the little review button and share your thoughts! 


	23. Chapter 23

_**Daily Planet,**_** August 29, 2007.** After the debacle at the ball field he'd been sure to keep a respectful distance per Lois' request, but with Luthor on the loose he still tuned into her and Jason, keeping watch over their apartment and feeling more like a stalker than a super-man. He also heard Lois cry herself to sleep every evening after their son was in bed and saw how red her eyes were each morning when she arrived for work.

That first Monday after the game he'd left a steaming cup of coffee on her desk as a peace offering; he'd even flown all the way to Florence to the little café where he had occasionally gotten her coffee in the past and flown back just as she entered the _Planet_ building. The coffee sat innocuously on her desk, steam rising in little tendrils, yet once it caught her eye she stood ten feet away from it as if it were a bomb. She glared at Clark, who quickly gave her an apologetic glance before bending over his work. He heard the crunch of the foam cup and the splash as Lois deposited the beverage in the trash can, but he resolved to continue bombarding her with caffeine until she broke down and spoke to him again. It was the best he could do in lieu of sending her flowers and stirring idle office gossip.

Lois' mind hadn't been on her work at all that week, but rather on the man sitting across the aisle from her. Every time she caught herself glancing in his direction a thousand questions flitted through her mind: _How could he do that to me?...How many times have I suspected, only to be fooled by a stutter and a pair of lenses?...And just how could he have been so cruel? I know I put up a brave front, but does he even know how fragile my heart is? Or was all this…the two of us, Jason…just a mistake to him?_ But it was the questions she asked herself at home, late at night, that caused her the most tears: _How can he still love me after the way I practically worshipped one half of him while ignoring the other?...How do you love a man with two different personas?...And most importantly, how do we move past this?_

After Wednesday morning's staff meeting Perry called the two of them into his office. He hadn't seen Lois this subdued since she'd discovered she was pregnant with Jason, and the way she and Clark tiptoed around one another…well, it had not all gone unnoticed by Perry White. Lois sat ramrod straight in her seat, while Clark sat slumped and defeated to her left. Perry stood in front of them, his knuckles on his desk.

"Lois, have you got anything you want to say?" he pointed at her.

She glared over at Clark and he squirmed. "No."

He turned his attention to Clark. "And you, Kent?"

"No."

"You sure now? Last chance."

They both nodded mutely.

"Alright then, now I want you two to get your stuff together and head over to…"

"No Chief." Both men's heads snapped over at Lois as she spoke. Her tone held no malice or disrespect, but everyone knew not to contradict the great Perry White.

"Excuse me?!"

"I'm sorry, Chief, but the answer is no. _We_…" she pointed to herself and Clark, "…won't be working on any stories together anymore. You'll either send him, or me, on the assignment, but not the two of us."

Clark watched in horror, and the great Perry White flopped into his seat, flabbergasted. His face turned beet red as he shouted, "Dammit, Lois, I'm the ringleader of this three ring circus here and if I want to send my two best reporters out on a story then _I will_ send my two best reporters out on a story, got it!?!" His eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

"I won't do it, Perry," she persisted in her quiet voice. Lois knew she was behaving very much like a petulant child but she was adamant in her avoidance of all things Clark Kent.

"Get out," he said, seething. "Go see if Gil needs some help with his research, otherwise you're not leaving the bullpen until I give the say-so. Now go!" he pointed toward the door, the disappointment and frustration evident in his voice. Lois quickly slipped out, and Clark made to beat a hasty exit as well when Perry stopped him.

"No Kent, she's right, you can handle the story," he handed over the details of the assignment to him which Clark took and glossed over silently in his seat. "You're really in the doghouse, aren't you?" the Chief asked with a knowing air.

"Um, er, well, you see…"

"Never mind, I don't want to know, this is giving me enough of a headache already. Just make sure you have that story on my desk by 4 o'clock today, ok?" Clark nodded and stepped out of the room, barely stopping to collect his effects at his desk before heading to a waiting elevator.

Only Lois noticed from the opposite side of the room that he was traveling up instead of down.

* * *

Later that evening Lois had just finished putting Jason to bed when the telephone rang. As she walked over to answer it she caught an anchorwoman on TV reporting from the scene of a fifteen car pile up on a highway in California where Superman was helping the rescue effort. _At least he's keeping busy…_

"Hello?"

An elderly voice came over the other end. "Hello, Miss Lane? It's Martha, Martha Kent." Lois didn't respond, but let out a soft sigh into the receiver.

"Miss Lane, please don't hang up. I know I shouldn't be calling, and no, Clark didn't put me up to this, but…"

"It's Lois, remember, Martha?" she said and she sensed the other woman relax on the opposite end of the line.

"I know," she replied in a small voice. "Dear, you should know that I'm not one to interfere much in my son's life; he would come to me for advice from time to time in years past, but whether or not he took it was his decision entirely. I always wanted him to tell you, you have to believe me."

"I do, but…"

"No wait, please, just let me finish. I can't imagine how hurt you are right now, finding out the way you did, but I just wanted you to understand something. Ever since our boy came to us…ever since he fell from the stars…Lois, he's always been alone. That was our fault really; Jonathan and I wanted him so badly that for the longest time we hid him away from the world, had him temper his abilities so he could fit in with other people his age. Lois, he isn't like other people his age. He has a heart as big as an ocean and he uses it just as much as any of his other talents when he's off helping people…

The traces of loneliness she'd seen in his face, in the images from Smallville and in passing at the _Planet_ immediately came to mind. Without thinking, Lois interrupted her and said, "He cares too much."

"I'm sorry?"

"Chloe Sullivan, she told me the first time I came to Smallville that Clark Kent's greatest weakness was that he cared too much. She knows, doesn't she?" Lois asked breathlessly into the phone.

Martha assented. "She's one of the few that do."

"Who else knows? I mean, I asked him that day but I never let him finish."

"Just you, me, Chloe and Jason. We're the only ones who know about the weight that rests on those shoulders—the weight that adds to his isolation." They both remained silent on their respective ends of the line for a moment. "He worried so much about what this information would do to you and Jason. If anyone else ever found out that Clark Kent and Superman were one in the same, and that you and Clark were together, he knew that any enemy he'd ever had would come after the two of you. That's why he kept you in the dark, why he kept you at arm's length for so long. Although I think he was on the verge of telling you again now, on his own terms…"

_The night before the ballgame…_the memory instantly flashed before her, like a scene from another lifetime. _"Lois, can we talk? I have something…" _He'd wanted to let her in, only she hadn't been listening. _How long have I not been listening to you, Clark?_ Two salty tears made their way down her cheeks.

"Lois, are you still there?" Martha inquired.

"Yes…yes I'm still here."

"Sweetheart, I'm only telling you this because, while you have every right to be upset with him, just know that it isn't in his nature to hurt anyone, especially those he loves most. His actions may have been misguided but his heart was in the right place, and right now I know he's hurting just as much from the fall-out as you are. Just…just don't let too much time pass before you two talk things over, whatever happens, ok? Will you try that for me?"

Lois nodded at the phone, trying to compose herself. "I…I will, Martha. I will."

She heard the elder woman's voice crack on the other end of the line too. "I couldn't have picked a better woman for my son than you, Dear. Good night."

"Good night. And Martha? Thank you for telling me this. I needed to hear it."

"I know." They both hung up the phone.

Clark was in the midst of lifting a heavily damaged SUV off the highway when he heard his Mother murmuring to herself. "Oh my boy…my boy…" and then the sound of Lois' renewed tears reached him. He grimaced and sank a little in the air, the warped metal of the car shifting in his hands, but he ground his teeth and forced himself to focus on the task before him.

_How are we ever going to move past this?_ he silently asked of himself as he flew off toward the nearest junkyard to set down his burden.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Daily Planet,**_** September 4, 2007. **He placed a steaming hot cup of coffee on her desk and stepped back toward his seat as the bell rang in the elevator bay. Lois exited the cabin and strode briskly over to her cubicle, ready to start a new day. She deposited her jacket and purse on the chair, and just when Clark expected to hear the sound of the cup connecting with the bottom of the trash barrel he instead heard the loud echo of her heartbeat…so loud in fact it sounded like she was right behind…

"Clark?" Lois asked. He spun around and jumped out of his chair in surprise.

"Lois, I, uh, I didn't hear you," he replied. _Yeah right…_he saw the thought flash across her mind. Her eyes were busy scrutinizing his every feature, when she did something unexpected.

She took a sip of the coffee.

He took it as an olive branch.

"This doesn't mean that you're forgiven you know, for not telling me. Not by a long shot."

His voice dropped an octave from the one she'd been used to hearing him use in the office. "I know."

"I think it will take a lot more coffee to do that too."

"I know."

"I suppose we'll have to hammer out some of the details this evening."

Clark eyed her curiously. "Do you mean that, Lois?"

She stood about a foot from him and looked into his eyes. They were searching her features for any signs of hope of rekindling the trust and the love they once shared. She also marveled at the amazing clarity in their blue depths, wondering how she ever let herself be fooled by pieces of glass and plastic.

"I do." Clark let out a huge sigh and allowed himself to stand straighter than normal. "Jason starts school tomorrow, and I know he'd like to see you before then. That is, if you're not…" she made a flying motion with her hand.

"I won't, not if I can help it," he replied, a little quickly. "Um…what time should I…?"

"Will 7:30 be alright?"

"7:30 will be perfect."

She smiled wanly. "We'll be waiting for you then," she said, before returning to her desk and getting down to work.

* * *

Lois unlocked the living room window at 7:29 pm so that he could make a quick entrance; however, the doorbell rang out at precisely the same moment.

"Who is it?" she called out, walking over to the door to look in the peep hole. The image that greeted her was that of Clark Kent, holding a small package wrapped in brown paper in his hands.

"Lois? It's me, Clark…you, uh, told me I could stop by…" she saw him nervously look down at his watch before she unlocked the door. His Superman voice combined with the lack of glasses on his face contrasted with the hairstyle and mannerisms Lois associated with her partner at the office.

"You're right on time," she greeted him. He stepped inside and she closed the door—that's when he noted the open window.

"Oh, you thought I would um…" and again he made the swooping motion with his hands.

"Well I wasn't…"

"…I don't normally do that unless…"

"…oh, the costume! Right, right…"

"…I thought it might be better, this way."

"I guess you're right."

A little streak of navy blue came from out of nowhere into the living room and jumped up into Clark's arms. "DADDY!!!" Jason cried out, all breathless with excitement.

"Hey there, Little Guy! I missed you!" Clark enthusiastically planted a kiss on the boy's forehead.

"I missed you too!" He clung all the tighter, afraid his father might fly away at any moment. Lois thought that if his neck hadn't been made of steel he might have choked.

She intervened. "Jason, why don't you go show your Father the new stuff we got for your first day of school tomorrow?"

"Oh yeah!" Clark put his son down and allowed himself to be dragged off down the hall into the bedroom.

"Hey, slow down there, Bud, I'm not going anywhere just yet! Besides, I got this for you for school." He handed him the brown paper package he'd been carrying in his hands.

The child tore off the paper with gusto, revealing a shiny new red Sky Captain lunch box with accompanying thermos. "NEAT!!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!" Jason said, before turning to his Mom and asking "Can I keep this one too, Mom? It's got a different picture on the front. Can I, Mommy, _PLEASE?_" Clark shot Lois a confused look, as she walked into the kitchen and pulled brand new _yellow_ Sky Captain lunch box out of the cupboard.

She turned to Jason before Clark could say anything in protest. "Yes you _may_ keep it, Jason." He handed over the lunchbox to her and she placed them both side-by-side in the cupboard while he dragged his father off toward his bedroom. Clark knew he wouldn't have been able to hear her otherwise, for Lois whispered when they were out of sight, "He'll manage to lose or break one during the school year, so having a back-up is handy. You did good, Smallville." It caused the ridiculously large grin on his face to grow even bigger.

After Jason had exhausted himself showing off his new clothes, backpack, notebook and crayons, Clark picked his way back out into the living room. Lois was sitting on the sofa, curled up like a cat, sipping from a glass of wine and watching a game show. She turned as she heard him enter the room. "I didn't pour you any since I wasn't sure if you liked it or not, but there's a glass by the bottle on the table if you'd like to join me." She hadn't meant any malice by the comment, it was just the truth; she knew that Superman didn't drink when he was 'on-duty', but that Clark occasionally would indulge, so she left the choice up to him.

He didn't miss a beat. "I still like red wine, Lois."

"Like I said, I wasn't sure."

"I understand." He settled himself down on the opposite end of the sofa and took a sip. Lois couldn't help herself; she just kept staring at him in his blue t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. He wasn't wearing the glasses but his hair was still mussed in typical Clark Kent fashion…the overall look was driving her to distraction.

"I wish you'd stop doing that," he said quietly.

"Doing what?"

"Staring like that…you're making me feel like some sort of oddity on display."

Lois put the wine glass down indignantly on the coffee table and crossed her arms in front of her chest angrily. "Well _excuuuuse me_ for feeling like I'm sitting next to a stranger! A stranger who I happen to share a child with and who left me with no recollection of the event! A stranger who _looks_ like my partner, Clark Kent, but _sounds_ just like Superman! So tell me, please, how would you like me to look at you?!"

They sat in silence for a moment before he said quietly, "I deserved that."

"You're darn right you did…"

"But Lois, you don't understand…"

"So HELP ME try to understand!"

"I'm trying!" he said authoritatively. Clark's cheeks immediately flushed red with guilt for having shouted at her—he didn't want to fight.

"If Jason wasn't in the picture," she said quietly, looking down the hallway to make sure their son couldn't hear, "Would you have ever tried to tell me again?"

"I don't know." He thought for a moment before explaining, "When you first found out… it was just the two of us. No one else was around distracting us, or gossiping about us or attempting to destroy us—we could just focus on being a couple. But the moment we returned to the real world life got in the way. You found it hard to treat 'Smallville' the same way around the office and it drove you to distraction. Then there was Luthor, using you as leverage to get to me so he could exploit Zod, Non and Ursa's power…and that was all before Jason even existed! If other people knew what you knew—that I was hiding in plain sight and that we were more than just 'friends'—they'd come after you a hundred times harder.

"I took your memory back then because I couldn't bear to see you in pain or be the cause of future harm. And now, with things working out so well between us, I knew I had to tell you the truth again; I was only waiting for the right moment because if I didn't you'd just end up in more anguish than you'd been in the last time. I hated lying to you, Lois, it tore me up inside, but it was the best decision I could make, given the circumstances." He downed the rest of the wine in his glass, steeling himself for the expected barrage of questions to come next.

"Clark…Superman…Kal-el…" she let out an exasperated sigh. "What do you want me to call you, now that I know?"

"Call me Clark, Lois…I've been Clark for the last thirty years, and nobody else says my name quite like you do."

She blushed. "I guess I just wish that you'd told me yourself, sooner, because the shock of finding out the way I did this time…I don't think I need to tell you how awful that was. I felt like such a fool."

"I'm sorry, Lois, I really did have every intention of telling you."

"I know, but now…now I'm not so sure that I know you."

He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, what else do you want to know about me?"

"Tell me what it was like for you, growing up."

"But you _do_ know all that, Lois, my Mom told you that when you went to Smallville for the story…"

"No, she told me the abridged version. I want to hear it all, from how they found you to how you broke into the bullpen all those years ago."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know…" she replied, with a smile. Clark reached over and cupped her face in his hand; he knew better than to take advantage of her goodwill by kissing her now. His thumb idly stroked her cheek and she nuzzled his palm, reaching up and placing one of her hands over his.

They spent the better part of the night talking, only stopping to put Jason to bed. Clark knew he was lucky, lucky that criminals seemed to take a hiatus for the evening, and lucky that the love of his life, Lois Lane, was so forgiving. She soaked up every word, from how his birth parents sent him to Earth and he crashed three years later in a Kansas cornfield, to how he discovered his powers, and finally, how his voyage to Krypton had really gone and how he felt upon seeing her in her new life after his return.

They eventually fell asleep on the couch sometime between 2 and 3 am, her face pressed snuggly against his chest and his arm wrapped around her waist, the joy of their reunion practically radiating off of them.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Metropolis,**_** September 5, 2007. **"Synchronize your watches people! 2400 hours until the Operation is a go!"

* * *

_**Daily Planet**_**, September 5, 2007.** Clark had flown off to his own apartment early in the morning so as to allow Lois to get ready and get Jason to school on time. In spite of the reconciliation neither of them wanted to give their son any ideas—"_It'll_ _take time to heal…" _came Lois' words from the previous evening, echoing in the back of his mind. Still, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face, not for all the money in the world.

She arrived at work a half hour after he did, with a glow in her cheek and a bounce in her step. This time, instead of leaving the coffee on her desk, Clark left it on the edge of his own as an inducement for her to come over. Lois walked right over and plopped a small brown bag on the middle of his desk before sitting on it's edge and picking up the coffee.

"It's not homemade, but it was the best I could do given a lack of…" she looked around to make sure no one was listening "…superpowers." She took a sip of the drink he'd left for her.

"MMmmm, blueberry, my favorite," he said, without even moving toward the bag.

"Hey no fair!" she cried out playfully. "Looks like I'll have to invest in a lead-lined lunch basket for this weekend…"

His eyes twinkled at the implication. "And what might you be needing that for, Miss Lane?"

"For a family picnic in the park of course." She winked at him.

Clark was thankful then that he knew what it felt like to fly, because he was pretty sure his heart had taken lift-off out of his chest. He must have been looking at her queerly because Lois was staring at him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I was just thanking my lucky stars that I landed here, on this planet, and that I was able to meet somebody as wonderful as you."

The glow in her face heightened, but she still rapped him on the arm with the paper she had folded up in her hand. "Are you sure you grow corn and not cheese out there in Smallville, Kent?" she asked mock-scoldingly.

"L-Lois," he replied, the bumbling farm boy-turned-reporter she'd known for all those years suddenly resurfacing. "You know they, uh…they don't g-grow cheese. It's cultured."

"Oh you." She gave him another whack with the paper. "Just remember, flattery will get you nowhere…but this coffee just might." Lois smiled at him before getting up and walking back to her own desk.

He was just about to bite into the muffin she'd left him when a bellow was heard from the back of the room. "Kent! Lane! Get in here!" Clark scrambled at the Chief's beckoning, while Lois gathered her notepad and calmly walked to his office. It took all her strength not to swoon at the sight of Clark Kent and maintain a professional and friend-like front.

The duo sat around the Chief's desk and waited as he pondered something outside his office window. Turning around, he looked from Lois to Clark and back again before beginning.

"Good to see you two've patched things up; it's about time. Now, I want you to look into the dwindling criminal element along the docks. A friend of mine at the MPD has said that their numbers have been dropping faster than the stock market in '29 since the Luthor announcement was made in May. He wasn't sure what to make of it before, but that's why I want you two to look into it…"

"I can't, Chief," Lois interjected.

"Oh no, not again," Perry said, sinking into his chair, rubbing the top of his balding head. Even Clark's eyes popped out of his head at Lois' words.

"No no, it's not like that, Perry, really!" she hastened to say. "I'm still working on that piece about the death of Aaron Cartmore, the playwright who was killed in his apartment last weekend, remember?"

"Lois, that was supposed to be a simple write-up; someone broke in, shot the guy in cold blood, cracked into his safe and left. So what's the hold-up?"

"Chief, the guy was obviously afraid of something. He had practically fifteen locks on his door, not to mention that not all the cash and bearer bonds were taken out of the safe, just enough was taken to make it_look_ like a robbery. I have it on good authority from my friend at the MPD that it's a homicide, not just a B&E gone bad."

Perry pondered her reporter's intuition for a moment before speaking again. "Ok, here's what we're going to do. Kent? You start investigating down at the docks. Lois, I'm giving you forty-eight hours and if nothing pans out then you're on the new story with him, ok?"

"Sure, Perry."

"Whatever you say, Chief."

"Good, that's settled, now get out and let me get back to work," he said, settling down to the paperwork before him.

* * *

Jason's first day of first grade had been a big success, and he relayed the events to Clark when his Mom brought him into the office that afternoon.

"And then we went out on the new playground, which was REALLY COOL! They got puzzle pieces on the ground so it won't hurt when you fall…"

"Whoa there, slow down, what do you mean they had puzzle pieces on the ground?" Clark asked, halting the boy jabbering away on his knee.

"He means they put foam rubber down instead of asphalt or mulch and it's in the shape of colorful puzzle pieces. It absorbs the shock in the kid's knees when they run around and doesn't hurt them should they fall down," Lois explained.

"Yeah, only I didn't fall, but Timmy Redman did and he told Mrs. Harper that it didn't hurt! And Danny and I climbed on the monkey bars and went down the slide before playing with Susie on the swings. And after recess we went back inside and colored, and I made a picture of a giant green T-Rex! Rarrr!!!!" He said, barring his claws menacingly.

Clark feigned a frightened look. "Oh boy, sounds like you had quite a day! I'm glad you liked it. Did you get any homework?" Just then, Clark cocked his head, intent on a sound off in the distance. It was a large bank robbery in Texas that was fast becoming a stand-off; his assistance was needed.

"Go to your Mother's desk, Jason, and get started on your homework, ok? I have to go…"

"But Da—Mr. Clark, why do you have to leave?"

"Because…" he lowered his voice by an octave and whispered in the child's ear "…people need my help." Jason's eyes went wide and he scrambled off Clark's lap and ran over to his Mother. Lois looked up in time to see Clark loosen his tie a little before jogging to the stairwell and pulling another disappearing act. A few minutes later the TV screens erupted with news of Superman's appearance on the scene of a hostage situation at the First Bank of Dallas, in Texas. She smiled knowingly to herself, assured that all would be well now that Clark was on the scene.

She shook her head in disbelief as she bent down to her work. _Clark Kent as Superman…who would have guessed?_

* * *

_**Daily Planet,**_** September 6, 2007.** Clark looked up from his computer in the early afternoon and caught a glimpse of Lois pacing the floor in the conference room. The Chief had asked Jimmy to lend her a hand when he wasn't out on assignment, and he was currently sitting at the computer at the opposite end of the room from her helping her in her investigation. Lois looked a little frazzled.

Clark knocked on the conference room door. "Hey guys, you want to, uh…g-grab a bite to eat? Maybe help c-clear your heads?"

"Yeah, CK, that sounds great!" Jimmy said, getting up from his seat.

"Give us fifteen minutes, will you, Clark? There's just one thing I need to figure out before we go…" but she caught the look on his face and knew he wasn't listening, his face had gone ashen.

She stopped pacing right in front of him. "What is it?"

His voice switched to its lower register. "Something's wrong at Donner Elementary…its Jason…"

"GO!" she screamed at him, causing Jimmy to jump. Clark was gone before the young photographer had a chance to note his absence.

"What…? What's wrong? Where's CK?"

"Uh, uh…he's out…on a lead! Forgot about meeting an informant. I gotta go, Jimmy, it's Jason…"

"Um, ok, sure, whatever you have to do, I'll be here when you get back." But she too was gone before he'd even finished speaking.

* * *

**12:58 pm.** The delivery van, the two repair trucks and a handful of SUV's took up their position on the three streets surrounding the Donner Elementary school playground. One of the vans was rigged with all manner of video surveillance equipment and all were lead-lined.

At 12:59 four rough looking men stepped out of one of the SUV's parked along the Northwest side and began casually walking around the outside of the playground. A short chain link fence was all that stopped them from their intended target.

"I've got him," a voice buzzed in all four earpieces. "Red zip-up jacket atop the jungle gym." The four men nodded at one another and strolled over to that side of the playground. The child jumped down off the equipment and started heading for the swings.

"NOW!"

The thugs hopped the fence and ran full-out at Jason Lane, one of them grabbing him roughly around the waist and slinging him over his shoulder. Both Jason and his friend Danny, who had been running beside him, started screaming.

Mr. Jablonsky, a fifth grade teacher at the school, was the first to notice the commotion. "ASHLEY, CALL 911! THEY'VE GOT ONE OF THE CHILDREN!!!!" The other kids fled the schoolyard screaming in terror as the teachers quickly ushered them back into the safety of the building. The kidnappers were crossing the playground back to their vehicle as Mr. Jablonsky took off after them.

The men knew what the job was; grab the child and Superman would show. What they hadn't been told was that the child in question possessed half-Kryptonian DNA and that he was not going _ANYWHERE_ without a fight. Jason was screaming like he'd never screamed before; his throat and lungs were burning from the effort and he flailed about in the thug's grip, pounding on his back with his hands and delivering a swift kick to his chest that sent the ruffian down on his knees.

"What are you_DOING_!?!?!" one of them hissed at the man on the ground. "GET UP!"

"C…ca…can't…" the one on the ground replied, winded. A pair of fingers snapped and the two other kidnappers moved to take Jason out of his arms. Mr. Jablonsky reached them and delivered a swift punch across one of the men's jaws. The teacher was about to get his own jaw clocked in return when it connected with blue-covered steel.

Superman landed with a blur on the playground, not giving any thought to the safety of his surroundings, his only focus in getting his son out of harm's way. He quickly wrangled Jason out of the still-winded man's grip and passed him off to the teacher.

"Get him out of here, get them all out of here, NOW!" he shouted, hoping to curb the terror in his voice while pointing at the other children who were still outside. Mr. Jablonsky fled with Jason clutched in his arms, the little boy shaking uncontrollably.

The third man got to his feet and the four of them began to circle the Man of Steel like hyenas to a kill. Superman kept his eyes on all of them, but he heard the opening and closing of other car doors nearby. Soon there were twenty more men stealing over the once happy play area.

"NOW!" the voice once again echoed in all their earpieces. Superman heard the command along with the hiss of hydraulics and saw several of the puzzle pieces on the ground pop off into the air—only then did he start to feel sick.

_Kryptonite!_The playground surface was littered with the green rock, hidden by a thin lead lining underneath the kid-friendly groundwork. The set-up was too elaborate to have been a spur-of-the-moment plan concocted by a couple of goons, and Clark quickly realized that this trap had Lex Luthor written all over it.

As he registered these facts one of the men aimed a punch squarely at his chest; the connection of it caused him to topple back slightly. His strength had not wholly left him but he knew it wouldn't be long—he began to swing about at the throng of men that enclosed on him. Clark felt his fist connect with someone's jaw before he picked up another man and tossed him out of the way. This went on for several minutes before his arms started swinging wildly in front of him like an over-tired boxer—he couldn't tell how many men he'd struck because wherever one went down three more popped up. Punches were also being thrown in his direction, hitting him in the face, chest and back. He felt the jab taken at his New Krypton wound most acutely and crumpled to one knee in pain. This was the opportunity the men had been waiting for.

Superman looked up in time to see a net about to be thrown over him. He struggled in vain to get to his feet and fly to safety; it was the last thing he remembered before everything went black.

Students and teachers watched from the windows as the horrific scene unfolded before them. Sirens could be heard in the distance as the men scrambled to load their unconscious victim into the delivery van before returning to their own vehicles to flee the site. They were long gone by the time the authorities arrived, leaving exposed Kryptonite flooring and a bloody trail on the playground in their wake.

The whole episode had taken only seven minutes.

* * *

**A/N: **B&E is slang for breaking and entering. 


	26. Chapter 26

_**Donner Elementary,**_** September 6, 2007. **She left the keys dangling in the ignition as all traffic halted three blocks from the elementary school. Lois bolted out of the car, frantic with worry, and she sprinted to the play area from the South side. A barricade had been set up along the perimeter with anxious parents huddled everywhere, demanding to be reunited with their children who were under police guard in the gymnasium until further notice. Squad cars dotted the landscape, as well as a few SWAT trucks, and Lois felt the knot grow in her stomach as she approached a young cadet standing next to one of the hurdles.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I can't let you in here," he told her firmly. It was then that Lois spied the blood on the ground near the play equipment. She grew even more frantic.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON'T LET ME IN HERE?!?! MY SON IS IN THERE! HOW DARE YOU KEEP US FROM OUR CHILDREN! I WANT TO SEE MY SON…"

"MOMMY!!!" Jason cried from behind one of the SWAT trucks. He broke free of another officer's grip and ran almost at super-speed toward his Mother. The officer was surprised; he thought he had a pretty good hold on the boy, but apparently the six year old was a lot stronger than he looked.

She got down on her knees and squeezed her son tight before holding him out at arm's length to examine him. Lois ran her hands all over, searching for a cut or a bruise and finding frightened tears instead. "Jason, Baby, are you ok? I was so worried about you! What happened? Oh Baby, I'm so glad you're alright…"

"They took him, Mommy…" the boy let out in-between sobs.

"They took who, Baby?'

"Superman! He came to save me and they hurt him and they took him!" He began to cry harder and Lois pulled her child close once more, not wanting him to see the increased anxiety on her own face. _Nobody just __takes__ Superman…oh God what happened here?_ Just then a woman in a black pant suit came out from behind the truck and walked toward her.

"Are you this child's Mother?" she asked Lois.

"Yes, I'm Lois Lane…"

"As in _Daily Planet _reporter and friend of Superman?" Lois could only nod. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to follow me; Officer let them pass," the young man did as he was told and Lois stood up, picking up Jason and following the young woman to the SWAT vehicle.

"Miss Lane, I'm Special Agent Clarissa Woodrow, and I'm afraid that someone used your son as bait this afternoon to lure the Man of Steel into a very elaborate trap."

"Have you managed to locate those responsible yet?"

"Not yet but we're using every available resource to track them down."

Lois' face fell at the disappointing news. "How did it happen?"

"Well, as best we can tell, whoever is behind this set it up months ago. The new play area was lined underground with Kryptonite and covered with a light layer of lead; when Superman arrived all they had to do was pop the ground pieces off and expose him to it. Based on eyewitness accounts he was able to fend them off for several minutes before one of them took a green club and hit him over the head, knocking him out cold. They dragged him away to a waiting vehicle and fled before the authorities even got here."

"Nick Finneran," Lois said coldly.

"Excuse me?" Special Agent Woodrow asked.

"Nick Finneran's 'charitable donation' was what built this playground. My partner C-Clark Kent and I," she struggled to get his name out, her mind a whirl of fear for the unknown danger he was in "…we also suspected him of being involved in the Kryptonite smuggling ring a few months ago, but couldn't find substantial enough proof for our boss." She nearly started to cry at the thought of the missed warning signals, but she knew she had to stay strong in order to help the authorities find Clark faster.

"I'll send a squad car over to pick Finneran up for questioning, and I'd also like to look over your notes as well." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "We suspect Lex Luthor's involved in this too. It has his M.O. written all over it."

Lois nodded mutely; who else would know to use Jason than someone who knew about their special boy? "Call the _Planet _and ask for Jimmy Olsen; tell him I'm sending you and he'll get you everything you need." The Special Agent took down the name and phone number before passing it off to an associate of hers to follow up on.

"Miss Lane, any idea why they targeted your son…?" Before Lois could answer a head popped out of the van.

"We got some footage from the market across the street, Clarissa. I think you're going to want to take a look at this," Special Agent Chase said, his eyes looking from her to Lois to Jason. Lois thought she saw his eyes grow a little wider upon noticing her son, but didn't dwell too much on it. Without an invitation, Lois followed Agent Woodrow into the van.

The video was black and white with no sound, and centered mostly on the front of the little convenience store and on the west side of the playground. The agent behind the video monitor hit the 'Play' button as everyone focused their attention to the upper most portion of the screen. The men dragging Jason quickly came into view; he averted his eyes and buried his head in the safety of his Mother's shoulder. She watched in horror at the men who had tried to kidnap her son, then saw Superman land and extrapolate him from the thug's grip and pass him off to someone off camera, quickly giving him orders. Shortly thereafter more men began filling the play area and the puzzle pieces flew up off the ground. Lois couldn't watch anymore either and stroked Jason's head as she focused her energy on calming him down. What caught her attention next was a large delivery van filling up the screen, then hastily driving away.

Lois excused herself and stepped outside, pulling her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and dialing 411. "Smallville, Kansas please. Kent," she said. The phone seemed to ring an inordinately long time before the elderly woman answered.

"Hello?"

"Martha, it's Lois."

"Oh hi, Sweetheart, it's so nice to hear from you…" Lois let out a strangled sob. "What is it?" Martha asked frantically. "Is everything alright? Where's Clark?"

"Oh Martha," she choked out. "You need to get to Metropolis right away…he's been kidnapped!" Lois heard the phone on the other end go crashing to the floor.

* * *

"**???", Day 1.** Clark woke up tied to a wooden chair in the middle of a dark room. His head was still reeling from the earlier blow as he tried to focus in on his surroundings, ineffectively searching for an exit. He rubbed his rope-bound wrists then pulled them apart, hoping enough of his strength had returned to enable him to get out of his bonds. It hadn't—if anything, he felt weaker than he had on the playground.

The only light that entered the room came from underneath the door frame, and as he noticed it he caught a glint of green bouncing off a nearby wall. Slowly he realized that the mineral that had reflected the light was embedded in all the walls around him._This cell is laced with Kryptonite…_he thought, now frantically tugging at the rope. His reporter's mind worked feverishly, trying to connect the dots that had landed him here. _Luthor…_he recalled arriving at that conclusion back on the playground. _But how?_

The door swung open to reveal a figure standing in the doorway, framed by the artificial light. He couldn't make out the person's face, but the voice sent a chill down his spine.

"Good evening, Superman, so nice of you to join us. I do believe it's time for your close-up," the raspy voice said. Turning his attention to his attendants, he barked out "Bring him!"

Two beefy men entered the room, hauling Superman up to his feet. He twisted and jabbed at them with his elbows, trying to break free of their grip.

"Leave the cape," Lex Luthor snapped from his spot in the hallway. One of the men made to move his hand to the back of Superman's neck; Clark turned and was able to muster enough strength to burn him with the last of his heat vision. The other fellow, who was sporting a large purple bruise above his left eye, punched Clark in the gut, causing him to double over in pain. Together the two got the cape off of him and ushered him out and down the hall.

The cinder block walls had been white-washed and a string of construction lights were tracing their way to an unknown destination. He gathered by the lack of windows that they were holed up somewhere underground, which meant that there'd be no chance of the sun's healing rays reaching him and eradicating the effects of the Kryptonite poisoning. They turned a corner, Clark stumbling along in their grasp, and opened a wooden door at the end of the corridor.

The interior of the room before him was reminiscent of Luthor's first hide-out in the abandoned subway station all those years ago. There was a large library and desk on his left that had been partially closed off by a long black curtain hanging from the ceiling. In front of him was another dark curtain, blocking whatever was behind it from view; Clark attempted to use his x-ray vision, but it too was gone. On his right he saw a plush seating area with two large leather armchairs and one shabby wooden stool situated in front of an ornate fireplace. Luthor strode over to the empty armchair as his seated partner stood up.

"Nick Finneran," Clark said through clenched teeth. His captors pushed him forward and seated him roughly on the stool.

"See now, and my partner didn't think you would remember him," Luthor said in a gravelly voice laced with sarcasm.

"Yes, Lex, you have proven me wrong once again. Just like earlier today, when I was afraid Section 13 of the plan wouldn't work…but you had faith my friend, you had faith," he glanced over at his chrome-headed partner and shared an evil smile.

"And I bet you," Lex said, pointing to Superman, "never suspected that I would take a partner either. Well you, Miss Lane and Mayor Dunne made that choice for me when you declared me public enemy number one. The greatest, and most wanted, criminal mastermind of our time couldn't very well go waltzing through the streets of Metropolis setting this plan in motion.

"So, once I got off that godforsaken island I was stranded on after New Krypton…nice name by the way, must have brought back a lot of old memories for you—I'll be sure to thank Lois myself next time I see her…"

"LEAVE LOIS OUT OF THIS!!!" Clark snarled at him, straining under the hands of the thugs.

"Now now, is that anyway to treat your hosts? As I was saying, I set about recuperating and formulating my next plan after I managed my last escape. You'll have to forgive this coarse throat of mine…it never quite recovered from sixty-two days under a scorching sun with a paucity of viable drinking water. Money can't buy everything you know! When I was sufficiently well I began to search for a partner to help me implement my scheme. Mr. Finneran was a ready and willing candidate; he had the history with you to drive him, the connections I needed to get things done, and the financial expertise to cover our tracks more assuredly than any of these goons ever could," he said indicating the rough-looking men standing about the room with them. "Now, Superman, I'm sure you have a lot of questions running through that inferior alien mind of yours, so let us see if we can't answer a few of them now, shall we?"

Clark grimaced at the insult and turned to face Finneran. "Why?"

The younger man got a mean look on his face as he started to speak. "Because six years ago I came this close…_THIS CLOSE_…to getting everything I ever wanted, when that reporter exposed me and you swooped in and ruined EVERYTHING!!! They locked me away for almost two years, and you know what? They thought they'd reformed me, but I managed to pick up a few _new _tricks in White Collar Crime School; nobody knew it, but they'd released me a smarter man than they'd locked me away.

"When I was paroled for good behavior some Japanese investors sought me out and asked me about a directorial position at Marganic. They had sense enough not to stick me in the accounting department, but they recognized a shrewd business person when they saw one, so I took the job and created a squeaky clean image of myself for the public: a model of the system, the man who was reformed and who became a contributing member of Metropolis society.

"But my overseas investors underestimated my talents. A few strategically placed commas here, a couple of dummy accounts there, and PRESTO! I was back in business. And when Luthor came along with his business proposal, I vowed then and there not to let you get in the way of stopping me AGAIN!" Finneran finished, punching Superman squarely on the left side of his jaw, the force of which almost knocked him off his seat. He strained himself trying to get upright again as the blood trickled down the corner of his mouth and his sweaty hair fell to the front of his face, erasing the regal Kryptonian curl.

"And you, Luthor?" Clark snapped, turning to the other man. "Kidnapping me is only going to send you further underground, not above it."

"Au contraire, Superman! You see, keeping you here, holding you hostage on the world stage, _will _help me reach my ultimate goal of land acquisition. Without you there always putting a halt to my plans I'll be able to raise enough capital to _buy my way back to the top_.

"So you're right, in a way, this isn't land; but it's a step in the process toward acquiring it, and when I do, I'll sacrifice a portion of it for your grave," Luthor hissed before moving to hit him on the right side of his face. Clark had enough presence of mind to duck out of the way and Luthor missed, but one of the thugs came forward and grabbed a fistful of his dark hair, holding him in place as Lex's fist connected first with his jaw, then with his gut. Superman was once again doubled over, gasping for breath.

"Let's bring our guest over to the viewing area, shall we?" Lex asked, turning to his partner.

A sneer appeared on Finneran's face. "Yes, let's."

The thugs hauled Superman up to his feet by grabbing him under the armpits and pushed him in the direction of the large black curtain in the center of the room. The two businessmen passed through the opening first, followed by a stumbling Clark.

His eyes went wide in horror and he had to force himself to breathe. On the far side of the room was a wall of expensive video recording equipment being controlled by a hefty red-headed man. There were also several large computers and TV screens monitoring different news channels in Metropolis as well as all over the world.

But the sight that caused Clark the most concern was the large boxing ring set-up in the center of the space, and the hulking man flexing his muscles in readiness in the middle of it.

* * *

**A/N: **M.O. stands for Modus Operandi, or motive. 


	27. Chapter 27

_**Metropolis,**_** September 6, 2007.** Martha timidly knocked on Lois' apartment door a little after 6 that evening, her hands shaking with fright and her eyes red from crying. She'd barely been able to think straight since she'd gotten Lois' call and hopped on the first flight to Metropolis she could find.

Lois opened the door without a moment's hesitation, taking the other woman into her arms. _Martha's here now; she's strong, she'll know what to do, she's been through this before, she'll know what to do…_ "Oh Martha, I'm so worried! I didn't know what else to do or who to call and I…I…" and Lois began to cry anew. Martha looked over the young woman's shoulder and saw Jason sitting at the coffee table very subdued. She broke from the embrace, pulled herself into the apartment and shut the door behind her.

"Ok, I'll tell you what we're not going to do. We're not going to panic or do anything crazy. The authorities are doing everything in their power to locate Clark and we aren't going to do anything that will jeopardize his survival or our own, do you understand me? I want to jump into the fray as much as you do, Lois, but if neither of us is alive at the end of this ordeal then it won't help him at all, you got that?" Lois nodded in mute agreement. "Now tell me everything you know."

She filled Martha in as best she could without going into too much gory detail. The elderly woman held her grandson on her lap as they sat at the kitchen table talking; Jason was still too dazed from the day's experiences to fully register his grandmother's arrival, or even acknowledge that he could openly call her 'Grandma'. Lois was just about to explain that Agent Woodrow had called her an hour before and informed her that Finneran hadn't been seen since yesterday when a break from the news program on the TV over Martha's shoulder caught her attention. All three turned and stared.

It was Lex Luthor's face that was staring back at them, filling up the whole screen.

* * *

_**FBI / MPD War Room, Makeshift Metropolis Headquarters,**_** September 6, 2007. **"Good Evening, Citizens of the World!" the bald headed man exclaimed joyously into the camera.

"What the hell?" Lt. Henrickson asked of no one in particular as he caught the image on screen at the other end of the War Room.

"As many of you have no doubt by now been made aware, earlier today my associates and I forcibly removed Superman from a Metropolis-area elementary school. He is now in our possession." The camera turned to the slumped but standing blue figure of Superman, sans cape. The room suddenly sprang to life.

"GET A TRACE ON THAT SIGNAL!!!"

"WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY BROADCASTING FROM?!?!?"

"HOW DID THEY GET ON THE NATIONAL AIRWAVES?!"

"FIND OUT WHAT OTHER STATIONS THEY'RE ON!!!!"

The room went silent again as someone turned up the volume on the main TV. "A list of our demands has been forwarded to the authorities who are conducting the manhunt for me, Lex Luthor, in Metropolis. The articles clearly state that in exchange for my freedom from all legal holds on my person and property, along with numerous other conditions deemed necessary for the purposes of my restitution while banished, we will release the Man of Steel."

"Luthor's gone mad."

"The Mayor will never give in to those demands. He'd never succumb to a terrorist!"

"He doesn't intend to let him out alive."

"My GOD what are they doing?!?!?!" All eyes reverted back to the TV as Superman was tossed into the ring with a shirtless, muscle-bound hulk in black pants.

* * *

The moment Clark was pitched into the ring Lois felt the bottom of her stomach drop out and she thought she was going to be sick. Predicting what was to follow, she turned to Jason.

"Go to your room, close the door, and turn the music up as loud as you can, NOW! Don't come out until I get you." He looked once more at the battered image of his father on-screen, then scurried down the hall scared out of his wits and did as he was told.

Luthor's face reappeared on camera. "To continue to support ourselves while in exile, we will be hosting a series of fights, on-line only, for your viewing pleasure. They will be more commonly known, using the wrestling lexicon that is now in fashion, as 'Superman Smackdowns'. Please visit the site listed below for more details."

"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!" Lois screamed repeatedly at the TV before sinking to her knees, the bloodied image before her too much to bear. She knelt quaking in front of the set.

Martha flung her head into her hands, "What are they doing to my baby boy?" she asked sobbing, her earlier resolve abandoned.

"And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you a preview of things to come…"

Lois made it to the kitchen just in time to throw up into the trash barrel.

* * *

A dinging bell went off somewhere behind Clark's shoulder as he stood in the ring, and he watched as his opponent flexed his muscles a moment longer before starting to circle him. He couldn't believe that Luthor was so sadistic as to force him to fight other men for entertainment. His strength was waning; the artificial lights and the absence of persistent Kryptonite exposure had brought him around more since he'd been let out of his cell, but the blows he'd taken from Finneran and Luthor had quickly drained him of his reserve energy. Clark's opponent made a move as if to punch him and Clark raised his hands defensively in a boxer's stance like his father had taught him a lifetime ago.

They circled one another for what seemed like ages to everyone watching. The scene unfolding before them on all the major networks was appalling, and yet no one could turn away. They needed to know that the Man of Steel was going to come out on top once again to thwart Luthor.

For all his bravado, Mickey Engelwhite hesitated before making first contact with Superman. He'd seen Luthor and Finneran do it but had yet to fully trust that the Kryptonite was working to it's full effect. And if the Man of Steel _did_ decide to fight back at full strength he wondered if he would escape alive.

"What am I paying you for, Mic!? Get on with it!" cried a fuming Nick Finneran from the sidelines off-screen.

Engelwhite let loose a punch, connecting with Clark's forearm as he braced his face for the blow. The impact wasn't the solid brick wall that he'd been expecting; in fact he found it to be like every other man he'd ever hit in his life. Another punch followed, this time in the upper arm. Soon all fear left Mickey and he began raining down hits over Superman's body, switching from punches to kicks on his person without restraint. Clark attempted to fight back, striking the man several times, including once in his kidney as well as above his left eye, but soon the stinging sensation proved too great. He felt every blow as it connected, and it took all the strength he could find just to shield himself.

After an unknown amount of time Superman fell to the floor, passing out from the pain as another kick was about to be delivered.

The world collectively mourned as they saw their hero sink unconsciously to the ground.


	28. Chapter 28

_**Metropolis,**_** September 6, 2007. **Superman had held his own for twenty-two and a half minutes in the ring, and that was just the first of many bouts that Luthor had promised. Lois watched through tear-filled eyes as Clark's bloodied form slumped to the floor, and she and Martha both knew that his system wouldn't be able to take much similar abuse. When the regular broadcast was back again on the airwaves, all the stations were showing highlights of the lopsided battle and calling it news. This infuriated Lois to no end.

"THEY'RE JUST GIVING LUTHOR AND FINNERAN MORE OF AN AUDIENCE!!!! Isn't it horrific and humiliating enough that it was aired a first time, now they have to repeat it?!?!? WHAT THE HELL IS THE WORLD COMING TO?!?!?!" she cried out in despair. Martha had presence of mind enough to turn off the TV; Lois looked at her semi-incredulously.

The elderly woman wiped her tears away with her sleeve. "Watching it again and getting indignant about it won't stop that man's fists from swinging, Lois," she said, the tears renewing themselves as her son's cut and bruised face flashed before her mind's eye. Lois moved up onto the sofa and held the sobbing woman close. They sat like that for ten minutes before Lois sprung up.

"Oh My God, Jason!" she ran down the hallway to her son's room, flinging the door open. The comforter on his bed looked as if it had been sat on but there was no other indication that he'd been in there; then the sound of music came from his closet. Timidly, Lois pulled back the door and found the boy sitting on the floor in the corner, a random radio station playing music as she had instructed while he stared vacantly off into space.

"Jason!" She sank to her knees and pulled him close, holding him tight for what seemed like hours. Martha finally made her way down the hall and into the room in search of them.

"Is everyone alright in here?" she asked, her eyes ringed in red.

"We're alright, Martha," Lois said, wiping the silent tears that had slid down her cheeks during the embrace. Jason nodded mutely, still too confused and upset to speak. Ignoring her own needs for the moment, Martha turned to address her grandson.

"Are you hungry?" The boy shook his head no.

"Thirsty?" Another nod in the negative.

"Tired?" This time she got a nod in the affirmative.

"Ok then, how about I go fix up some tea for the grown-ups while you get your pajamas on and then I'll read you a story, how's that?" He nodded yes once more.

"We'll be right back when you're ready, ok?" she and Lois back out of the room and partially closed the door behind them.

Lois was never a woman who was prone to hysterics; in fact, it was her cool head under pressure and her no-nonsense attitude that had garnered her as much acclaim in the journalistic field as it had over the last several years. Tonight, however, was not a night for the usual Lane composure.

"Martha, what are we going to do?!?! You saw how his body reacted! They have at least 15,000 pounds of Kryptonite hidden God knows where and ready for God knows what cruel purpose Luthor and Finneran can cook up! THE PEOPLE ARE BEING OFFERED A CHANCE TO PAY TO SEE HIM PUMMELLED! They're never going to let him go, THEY'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!" she screamed furiously, the rage and inability to contribute to the search finally boiling over. She looked over at Mrs. Kent, breathless from her tirade.

The elderly woman went pale and trembled at the mention of her son's likely death at the hands of such radicals. _God doesn't intend for me to keep my children…_she thought, the vision of her baby daughter gasping her last in her very arms followed by that of Clark fighting for his life on TV. _I can't do this, I can't lose another child…Oh my boy…_ Lois saw the dazed expression come over Martha's face and knew that a part of the formidable woman had just shut down. Seeing her child so thoroughly weakened without being able to do a damn thing about it seemed to break her indomitable spirit.

Jason came padding down the hallway in his pajamas, his mother and grandmother having never made it all the way to the kitchen. He tugged on Lois' pant leg.

"What is it, Baby?" she asked soothingly. He'd been through enough trauma without having to witness her meltdown too. He spoke in a voice that was barely audible, so Lois dropped to one knee and he whispered in her ear.

"What does he want?" Martha asked in a faraway voice; if she couldn't take care of Clark she could at least look out for the well-being of his only child.

Lois turned to look up at her. "He wants to sleep in the big bed with both of us tonight."

"I think that's a good idea," she replied. "What do you think?" The younger woman just nodded as she stood up, and all three made their way down the hall to the master bedroom. The two women crawled under the covers without bothering to change out of their clothes, and Lois checked the phone line once more to make sure everything was working in case Agent Woodrow called with any news in the middle of the night.

They all sobbed into their pillows as the evening wore on, giving vent to the anguish, frustration and grief that they felt toward the situation before them. When they did finally drift off into a restless sleep, images of the World's Greatest Hero being used as a punching bag continued to haunt their nightmares.

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** September 7, 2007.** Lois woke up a little after 5 am after her fitful night's sleep, the cordless phone still clutched in her hand. She looked over and saw that Jason appeared to be sleeping soundly, and that Martha had a protective arm flung over him as she dozed. She slipped out from under the covers and moved into the living room, turning on the TV to see if there was any new news while pulling Agent Woodrow's business card out of her pant pocket.

The first dial tone had barely gone through when a tired female voice answered. "Woodrow."

"Agent Woodrow, this is Lois Lane…"

"Miss Lane! Has there been any contact?! Did Lex Luthor or Nick Finneran attempt to communicate with you?! Has Superman escaped and been in touch with you?!" The urgency and desperation were apparent in her tone and Lois' heart fell.

"No, there hasn't been any news," she said, fighting back tears. "That's why I was calling you, to see if any progress had been made overnight."

Agent Woodrow took a deep breath, bracing herself for the disheartening task of imparting bad news to the person they all knew was closest to the Man of Steel. "Miss Lane, I don't know what to tell you. It's as if they just up and disappeared like dust in the wind. Everyone's been pouring over the footage from yesterday's attack on the playground, as well as…the other fight…" she wanted to gloss over this part quickly, for the sake of the reporter who didn't need reminding "…even our Tech people are baffled. They couldn't get a trace off any of the connections, and Luthor and Finneran were broadcasting on at least 25 major news channels around the world simultaneously.

"The only tangible connection we have at this point in the case is the paper trail you and Mr. Kent discovered regarding the Kryptonite smuggling with Finneran. We spoke with his secretary, Jeanine, yesterday when we went to his office to arrest him…once she learned what her boss was involved in she was more than happy to cooperate, and she's been able to put a few more of the pieces together. It looks like it all started to come together in mid-to-late May, and she only remembers because of the two unsavory men who came by the office shortly after the phone calls began. She told us it wasn't Luthor because she's seen his face everywhere, but based on her description it sounds like the type of crowd he usually runs with. We're trying to get some security footage on the two, see if we can follow them to Luthor and Finneran, but at this point it's looking very unlikely.

"Another lead we have, if you can even call it that, are the names of some of the playground attackers. Apparently we were right to be concerned; they've been recruiting ex-cons from the Slums for sometime. We're following up on the last known residences of these men but I doubt there will be anyone who will be able to tell us where they are now or what they've been doing."

Lois remained silent on her end of the line, taking in all the news. The two men had now had Clark for roughly sixteen hours…and they had enough of a Kryptonite store to keep him for 16,000 more if they so chose. _Or they could kill him tomorrow_…the thought sent a cold shudder down Lois' spine; _We were so close, Clark and I…so close to getting our act together and they've taken him…_

"Miss Lane, I'm not going to lie to you," Agent Woodrow went on. "This was a highly organized and efficiently executed plot. Despite our best efforts it's caught us all off-guard. But we're going to catch up to them, Miss Lane; he's counting on us to find him, and so are hundreds of millions of people around the world. You can't lose hope because if you lose hope then he won't have a chance."

Lois stifled a sob and simply replied, "I know."

"Alright then. The Mayor is going to make an announcement later on today…"

"I'll be there," she interjected quickly. Now it was Agent Woodrow's turn to remain silent. Then she added, "In an unofficial capacity."

"Just wanted to make sure. I've got to go, I'll be in touch if there's any news."

"Thank you, Agent Woodrow…I…I…I really…" Lois let loose the sobs once more, wishing she didn't have to be in this awful position.

"I know." The phone clicked as she hung up the line. Lois pressed the End button on her phone and refocused her attention on the TV. There wasn't any new information to be had, but it was good to see that they'd stop replaying the fight footage from the previous evening. One of the announcers stated that the networks had jointly agreed not to devote any more coverage to the bouts, largely due to the cries of an outraged public echoing around the globe. That bit of news bolstered Lois' spirits as she curled up into a ball on the couch and let sleep briefly reclaim her once more.

* * *

"**???", Day 2.**His first instinct was to seek out the sun. It was like water to a dehydrated man, and Clark was parched. He slowly lifted his head off the floor from the spot where his body had rolled to a stop, and he began looking around in earnest for a light source of any kind, however weak or artificial. He was disoriented and found it a struggle just to get into a sitting position…this made him quickly reconsider any notions he'd had about standing.

He'd had to deal with pain before, but never so much and for such an extended period of time. The last time Clark could recall his body feeling this badly was when he threw New Krypton out into orbit, and even then he'd only felt the burning and throbbing sensation course through his system for a short span of time; he passed out before crashing back to Earth and hadn't woken up from his coma until the worst was over.

He took stock of his wounds by groping about with his hands. His face was sensitive and irregular to the touch—it felt like pounded clay, and although he couldn't see it he suspected it was covered in bruises and cuts. Next he ran a hand along each arm; they too were sensitive to the touch, and he saw several tears where his suit had begun to rip. There were still more lacerations on his hands from defending himself.

After his face, his chest was the next most painful area of his body. Running a few fingers gingerly on each side he gathered he had a fractured rib or two, but without his x-raying capabilities he couldn't be certain. The suit had tears down there as well, exposing his finely-toned but weakened otherworldly physique. All his muscles, even those that hadn't borne the brunt of his previous exertions, screamed out at him in agony as he surveyed his injuries.

However, the worst of the damage was centered on his legs. The bruising was apparent there too, but what more they felt like Jell-o under his weight. He had managed to drag himself over to the chair he'd been tied to before and hauled himself up into a kneeling position. _Ok Kent, you gotta do this…you gotta crawl before you can walk, walk before you can run, run before you can fly…standing is just a step in the process…_he gritted his teeth and braced himself for the second attempt. Clark got to his feet briefly and stood up hunched and struggling for breath. When his knees buckled he went crashing to the floor, breaking the chair on his way down to meet the concrete.

"DAMMIT!" he cried aloud in frustration, banging a swollen fist on the wooden pieces beside him. Clark sat upright again, stretching his legs out before him, trying to get the circulation moving in a vain effort to get them back in working order. His cries must have been heard by someone on the outside, because the lights went on in the hallway and the metal door was soon flung wide open.

A large African-American man stood partially in the doorway. Clark paid him no attention and instead rolled himself over onto his back and into the light. This puzzled the obtuse guard, who stared at Superman while he bent down to put the metal plate of food in his hands on the ground. The way he lay prone on the floor, stretching all his limbs as if he were making a snow angel, made the thug wonder if they hadn't hit him over the head too hard the other evening. He beat a hasty retreat out of the cell, shouting "Eat up!" to his ward as he grabbed the handle to pull the door shut.

_I already have_. Clark smiled at the momentary relief that had been afforded him before the door swung closed and he was once more plunged into total darkness.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Daily Planet,**_**September 7, 2007.** The bags under Perry White's eyes were not a result of old age, but rather of having pulled his first all-nighter in six years. His favorite paisley tie sat in a pile on his desk and his shirt looked like it had been on the losing end of a tug-of-war match, while the little bit of hair on his head was greatly mussed. With Superman kidnapped and one of his best reporters on the verge of a breakdown as a result he'd had to reign in any and every available employee of the _Planet_ to ensure that the news was covered and covered well…_None of that repetitive tabloid drivel they print over at the Messenger, not on my watch!_

His contact at City Hall had called him shortly after 6:30 that morning to inform him of Mayor Dunne's speech at 9:30. The friend hadn't said whether the City was going to acquiesce to Luthor's demands, but his tone indicated that it didn't look likely. "KENT! OLSEN! GET IN HERE!" he barked from the door of his office. Jimmy came running.

"Yes, Chief?" he asked anxiously, wondering if there'd be any new developments.

Perry looked around the bullpen, seeking out the bumbling figure that was his other great reporter, Clark Kent. He was nowhere to be found. "Have you seen Kent?"

"No Chief, not since yesterday, before this all broke," he said, motioning to the continued pandemonium in the room behind him. "One minute he's asking me and Miss Lane to lunch, the next he's gone. Something about meeting an informant."

The older man grunted. "Alright Jimmy, here's what you're going to do. Get on the horn and get a hold of Kent. If you can't, then I want you to take Gil and get down to City Hall ASAP. Dunne's making a speech at 9:30 and I'll be damned if we're too tired or too short staffed to get a decent reporter and photographer on the scene. You understand?"

"Yes, Sir," and Jimmy bolted out of the room to the nearest available telephone. Perry stuck his head out of his office, "GIL!"

"Yes, Chief?" a head popped up from behind a cubicle wall in response to hearing it's name.

"You're on stand-by to cover the Mayor's speech. Consider yourself warned!"

The man looked at his Editor-in-Chief quizzically. "The Mayor's speech?"

"Yes dammit, that's what I said, now get your head in the game!" he shouted before slamming the door behind him in frustration. He picked up the phone behind his desk to call Lois; in spite of the un-godly hour he knew she'd be awake. Meanwhile Olsen stood on the other side of the glass and held up the receiver shrugging his shoulders. _Where the devil could that man be!? Doesn't he know we have a crisis on our hands?!_

"Hello?" an odd voice greeted him after the first ring.

"Lois?" he asked, his gruff demeanor abating in his confusion.

"Just a moment, I'll go get her," the other voice said. Perry could hear the shuffling of feet against the floorboard and heard the older woman say, "It's for you, Dear," before handing her the phone.

Lois immediately came to. "Hello?!" she squeaked, the anxiety in her voice very apparent.

"Lois, it's Perry, I was just calling to see how you and the Little Guy were doing. I wish you'd let me come over last night, or at least let me have sent Jimmy to check-in on you…"

"No Chief, it's alright, we're doing ok. Jason was still a little freaked out, that's all, so I didn't want everyone traipsing through here."

"But who picked up the phone?"

"Hmm?"

"Someone else is there, Lois, she answered the phone, now who is it?"

"Oh, that's um…that…it's, um…it's Clark's Mother."

Perry paused in bewilderment, thinking he'd gone without sleep for too long. "Did you just say Mrs. Kent is at your apartment?"

"Yes."

"Does that mean Kent's there too?"

He noted the crestfallen sound in her voice as she replied, "No, Chief."

"Then do you know where the hell he is?! It's bad enough I lose one of my best reporters but now to lose two, today of all days…"

Lois silently sent up a prayer of thanks that she'd inadvertently helped Clark cover his tracks. She implemented a cover story so as to protect him from the inevitable Superman's Missing/Clark's Missing speculation. "He, uh, went to go see an informant yesterday, down at the docks…you remember, Perry, that assignment you wanted to send us both out on?"

"Oh right, right…"

"When news broke about Superman, his Mother—Clark's Mother, not Superman's Mother because he doesn't have one…" Martha shot her a look from the kitchen. _Stop babbling, Lane, get back on track_, "…well Mrs. Kent came to Metropolis to be with Clark, only he wasn't at his apartment when she got in last night so she came here."

Perry disregarded her earlier comment and frowned at the news of Kent's disappearing act, "That doesn't sound like him…he's not the type of person to leave his own Mother high and dry…"

"I know, that's why we're, um, we'll be going to the Police Station later on today, to file a Missing Persons report. Hopefully he'll turn up soon," _Please God let him turn up soon, please…_

"Alright, sounds good. Now, how's Jason holding up?" he asked, concerned for his grandnephew.

"He's doing…" she glanced down the hall toward the bedroom where he was still sleeping. "He's doing as well as can be expected, Chief, you know? Yesterday was a lot for him to be put through."

"Ahh, but he's made of tough stuff on his Mother's side…he'll come out just fine. By the way, I got a hold of Richard and let him know what's going on. He said he'll try and call more often to see how you two are doing. I know things didn't work out well for you kids but he still cares about you."

"I know and I care about him too," she paused momentarily, not trusting her voice. Finally she managed to ask, "So how're things on your end?"

"Well, you know…" he started, trying to sound like it was just another day at the office. But he couldn't do it. "It's bedlam Lois, sheer bedlam. Superman's kidnapped and tortured, the police have taken to the streets as if World War III were about to erupt, and the Mayor is about to go on live television and most likely vow not to submit to Luthor's demands. In my forty-three years here at the paper I don't think I've ever seen things this bad." She could hear the strain in his voice; the difficult task of putting a paper together with such stories for headlines commingled with his personal grief over the situation. "That display that Luthor and Finneran put on last night…Lois, I am so sorry that I didn't let you and Kent run with that story all those months ago. You were onto something and you knew it but all I saw was the next deadline. If I hadn't been so damned myopic we might've been able to avoid all this…I hope that someday you two will be able to forgive me."

"Perry, I think I can safely speak for the both of us when I tell you there's nothing to be sorry about. Agent Woodrow said that despite the FBI and MPD's preparedness they were caught off guard by the situation too. It's nobody's fault, Chief—this happened through the sheer force of will of two wholly evil men, not because the Editor-in-Chief of the _Daily Planet _wouldn't let his reporters follow up on one investigation. It's ok." She said those things not only to assuage Perry's guilt but also her own, for she'd been thinking the same things since Clark was first taken yesterday afternoon.

He cleared his throat. "Thanks. I guess I'll let you go now…and Lois? Take all the time you need, help the Police and the FBI in any way you can, and if you or they need our assistance just let me know, you hear me?"

"I hear you. Thanks Chief." She hung up the phone.

Martha rounded the corner into the living room, eyes wide. "Well, did he have any news?"

"No, he just wanted to check in on me and the Munchkin."

"Oh," she said, a question forming on her lips. "But what was all that about me, Clark and a Missing Persons report?"

Lois got up off the sofa and walked over to where Martha stood. "People at the _Planet_ have noticed he's missing, and the last thing I said yesterday was that he had gone out to meet with an informant. If he stays gone for awhile…" she saw the tears begin to brim in the elder woman's eyes, "I didn't say when, I said _IF_ Clark stays gone for awhile, then there'll be even more questions for him to answer when he returns. We need to safeguard his future by filing a Missing Persons report with the Police. _WHEN_ he comes home we'll take matters from there, but this way less suspicion is thrown over the simultaneous disappearances of Superman _and _Clark Kent."

Martha could only nod. _My son was right…she is as intelligent as she is beautiful._ She was thankful to have Lois on her side this time around, instead of going it alone, burdening herself with keeping Clark's secrets. _To worry about him and to never be able to tell anyone why…well I didn't get all these silver hairs on my own account, _she thought. The younger woman caught the lost in space expression on the elder woman's face, wondering how much more she could take, but Martha was too far gone in her own thoughts to note her concern.

_Lois is in charge now; she's strong, she'll know what to do, she's been through this before, she'll know what to do…_


	30. Chapter 30

_**Metropolis City Hall**_**, September 7, 2007**. Scott Teague, looking more out of sorts than he'd ever looked in his whole professional career, rushed down the steps of City Hall toward the podium and the awaiting throng of people. Just like after New Krypton, Superman well-wishers had gathered, along with a large contingent of press correspondents, only instead of keeping vigil outside Metropolis General they all looked to City Hall for answers.

When they'd first gotten the list of demands from Lex Luthor and Nick Finneran (the Task Force had informed them of his involvement late the previous evening) they had every intention of complying with them and ensuring the Man of Steel's swift release. However, it quickly became apparent that the list was a smoke screen, a toy with which to mercilessly tease the Dunne Administration and the World as the duo gloated over successfully capturing the god-like man—the man who stood as a symbol of hope and goodwill to so many through his selfless actions.

Teague hadn't even fully approached the podium before the photographers started snapping pictures and the journalists began their barrage of questions.

"Does the Mayor plan on answering Luthor's list of demands?"

"Have there been any new discoveries as to where they took Superman?"

"What type of demands did Luthor make in exchange for the hostage?"

"How will this affect the US with regards to dealing with terrorism both at home and abroad?"

"Is Superman still alive?"

He held up his hands to silence them, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Last night the Mayor's office received a package that included a list of demands to be met in order for those holding Superman hostage to consider releasing him. Mayor Dunne and the joint MPD/FBI Task Force which has been searching for Lex Luthor for the last several months have gone over the list and the Mayor would now like to address you all on their decision."

The Press was still calling out questions as Mayor Dunne descended the stairs to the podium, followed by Chief McEachern, Special Agent Woodrow, Special Agent Chase, and half a dozen other men and women in uniform. All of those assembled looked as unkempt as Teague, with the dark circles under their eyes and the five o'clock shadows on the men clearly displaying how they'd spent their evening. Bracing himself for the onslaught, Theodore Dunne took the deepest breath of his life, then stepped up to the podium and firmly grasped it's sides. He knew that this would become the defining moment of his career.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began slowly but surely. "Thank you for coming out here today to show your support for Superman. It is heartening to see that after the savagery displayed yesterday evening there is still some good left in this world."  
He paused, choosing his words carefully before proceeding. "Superman is a hero not only to the people of Metropolis but also to the people of Earth, and that is why my Administration and I have opted for full disclosure. At 1300 hours yesterday afternoon a well thought-out plan was executed on the playground of nearby Donner Elementary school, endangering the safety of several of our own young innocent citizens. Superman arrived on the scene and was subsequently ambushed before being secreted away to an unknown location.

"We now know that Lex Luthor, architect of the failed New Krypton plot of last year, and Nicholas Finneran, current Director of Marganic Science and organizer of the Ergomex Fraud of 2001, were the masterminds between this latest attack. Authorities have been working through the night to locate these two men, as well as any known associates involved in the assault, in order to bring them to justice—which now brings me to the list of demands made by Luthor and Finneran in order to bring about Superman's freedom.

"We have viewed and re-viewed the list several times over in the hope of securing the swift release of the Man of Steel. However, the twenty page long manifesto includes articles such as the allocation of the entire East Coast between Mr. Luthor and Mr. Finneran, the delivery of 400 bottles of sunblock to a non-existent town in Alaska, and the readiness of 23 jet planes with ¾ tanks full of fuel for take-off at Metropolis International Airport. In short, this memo was not worth the paper it was printed on, and was intended solely to distract and detract from the real case at hand, that of locating Superman.

"The City of Metropolis, as well as the whole of the United States, has made it very clear that we will not negotiate with terrorists, and we intend to uphold this policy even in light of these new dangers. Let me assure you that this was not a decision entered into lightly, and we all hope to be able to resolve this matter quickly and safely."

The crowd had stood hushed until now, and Lois watched from the front lines as even the journalists working around her remained subdued. At the latter part of the statement the masses began to groan and wail collectively. She too felt her hope ebb, but while those around her were publicly concerned for the well-being of the superhero, she worried privately about the safety of the man.

Mayor Dunne waited until the cries had abated before aiming the conclusion of his address at the nearest television camera. "Superman, if you can hear us, if you can see us, then DO NOT give up hope. We will never stop searching for you, we will not stop hunting down Lex Luthor or Nicholas Finneran until they have been brought to justice for what they've done to you. DO NOT LOSE HOPE, SUPERMAN! WE ARE COMING!"  
The crowd broke into wild cheers at that and began chanting "SU-PER-MAN! SU-PER-MAN!" while waving their signs and banners. The journalists were calling in their stories, torn between labeling the Mayor an 'erudite tactician under pressure' or a 'bumbling bungling misfit-in-office'. Theodore couldn't hear the exact words but he felt the weight of the whispers after he'd announced his decision. He knew that only time would tell whether he'd been right or wrong in denying the hostage-takers their ludicrous ransom in exchange for the Man of Steel. The Mayor looked out once more at the chanting crowd before turning to head into City Hall along with the other officials, refocusing their efforts on finding Superman before more harm befell him.

Lois pushed forward up the steps, attempting to follow them into the building and offer her assistance. She didn't make it far before several police officers blocked her path.  
"Agent Chase! Agent Woodrow! Please, over here!" she called to their fast-retreating forms. The former ignored her and pressed on into the building, while the latter turned around and motioned for the uniformed men to let her pass.

"Miss Lane, I'm afraid I have nothing new to tell you since we spoke this morning," she informed the brunette woman who jogged up the steps.

"I didn't come up here for that, I came here to help."

"I know you mean well but I really don't think that's a good idea…"

"Now look here, Special Agent," Lois said, unintentionally breaking into Mad Dog Lane mode. "I can't focus at work knowing Finneran and Luthor caught him _using my son as bait_, and I can't sit at home twiddling my thumbs either. I have contacts in places that I'm sure the MPD and the FBI would find admirable, not to mention that it was my partner's and my research that uncovered Finneran's part in the plot where your own office failed to do so. I'm not asking to help, I'm telling you I'm here."  
Clarissa scrutinized the distraught woman slowly, knowing she was right about exposing Finneran's involvement with Luthor where her partner, Agent Chase, had been unable. She fixed a steely stare as brown eye met hazel.

"I'll let you in on the investigation," she said through semi-gritted teeth, "but only under certain conditions. And don't try to appease me and go around me anyway like you do your boss…" Lois' shocked face at being called out so quickly gave her away. "Oh yes, I know the likes of you, Miss Lane, I've seen your kind in our department before. These conditions are non-negotiable, understand?" The reporter nodded. "You will work at a desk with other agents and officers on following leads. You will NOT go out into the field without my direct say-so, nor will you will you go out in the field unaccompanied or on an unsubstantiated hunch. You will also NOT be siphoning confidential information on the case over to your friends at the _Planet_. I realize that you have a job to keep, Miss Lane and we'll both do our best to work around it, but I don't want to open up the paper one day to see a _Daily Planet_ exclusive on this case staring back at me, you got that?" She held out her hand in order to seal the deal.

"Yes, absolutely, whatever you say," Lois readily agreed, shaking her hand. _If she'd asked for my soul I would have gladly signed it over…anything to get Clark back_… The two jogged up the steps and followed the other officials inside the building.

* * *

Forty-eight; that's the number of hours investigators will always tell you are the most critical. The crime is fresh, the evidence is extremely viable, the examiner's adrenaline is running and the perpetrator's nerves are liable to cause him or her to make the mistake that gets them caught.

In those first forty-eight hours the MPD/FBI Task Force had amassed quite a large amount of paperwork. Officers scoured the neighborhood where Superman was last seen battling the hired heavies before being hauled away like so much garbage; they also compiled witness statements, reviewed surveillance videos and followed up on leads from the manhunt hotline which were now streaming in by the thousands. People the world over thought they'd seen Lex Luthor in a grocery store, or Nick Finneran at a movie theater, or both of them together with Elvis at a dive bar in Cancún.

For Lois the chaos within the makeshift headquarters at City Hall would have driven her mad had it not been for all her years spent working under similar conditions at the _Planet_. She took to it like a duck to water, much to Agent Woodrow's pleasure and Agent Chase's chagrin. He was still leery of her after the last time they'd met, and now that she'd gone and proven that Finneran WAS involved in this mess…well he wasn't going to go shake her hand in congratulation anytime soon.

Agent Woodrow set her up with Lt. Henrickson in one of the offices they'd requisitioned for the cause. Henrickson and several uniformed MPD and FBI officers were pouring over file folders from a dozen or more cardboard boxes that littered the room.

"So what have we got over here?" Lois asked, ambling over to the middle-aged MPD official with the tired eyes.

"Well," Henrickson replied, "These are the financial records for Marganic Science since last May, as well as all of Nick Finneran's personal on-shore accounts. We're checking and re-checking our work, so it's been slow going so far, but there's nothing out of the ordinary yet."

"I see, and where do you want me to start, Lieutenant?"

"Right here. We're trying to narrow in on a possible location where they might have taken him and we're looking at everyone Marganic is in touch with: from the warehouses where they buy their equipment to the laboratories where they conduct their work and the docks where they keep their boats—the way we see it, Finneran's best chance was to use company connections in his part in the plan, so that way he wouldn't arouse as much suspicion as if he were doing things solo. This is the short-list we've been able to get from the financials so far, and I was hoping that you'd be able to follow up on them, questioning people and making sure they're legitimate businesses."

"You mean you want me to bully people into giving me information by saying that if they don't cooperate their names will be listed in tomorrow's_Daily Planet_ as co-conspirators with Luthor and Finneran?" she asked, a bit of the reporter snark thrown in to try and ease the ever-present tension.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," he half-chuckled back. "Just don't go busting any heads in over the phone…yes, your reputation really does precede you, Miss Lane." They settled into their work.

At the twenty-four hour mark the adrenaline throughout the department was beginning to wear off, but the vigilance was not. The Chief sent Jimmy over with boxes and bags of food—enough to feed a small army. And when Lois looked around the room that's exactly what she saw, a small army fighting to save one man from misfortune. _But they don't know him like I do…they know the primary colored hero, not my best friend and father of my child…_Without framing the words in her mind Lois knew she was lost without Clark and quickly re-doubled her efforts.

Her eyes began to droop around the thirty-one hour mark, but she fought the urge to sleep. Every hour that went by was another hour that weakened Clark to an extent she didn't know if he could recover from, so she plugged away at her list, the package of cigarettes that had been keeping her company since earlier in the day almost gone.

Lt. Henrickson ordered her home at the forty-two hour mark; Lois was seeing double and talking in gibberish she was so delirious. After her initial stubborn resistance they poured her into a cab to take her home—the taxi driver having to shake her violently awake outside the front door of her building she was so far gone. Lois all but crawled into the apartment, not noticing the looks from Martha and Jason, before collapsing into bed with her purse still in her hand.

Yes, the first forty-eight hours were crucial in any investigation, but especially in such a high-profile one as this. Once that threshold is crossed the mood breaks; the crime is no longer as fresh, the examiner's and their resources are fairly well-exhausted, and the perpetrator is relishing in his or her continued freedom. In this case the forty-eight hour mark quickly came and went, and saw both Lois and Clark dozing in fitful nightmarish slumber as it passed.


	31. Chapter 31

"**???", Day 8.** He was healing, slowly but surely, and no thanks to what little scraps they brought him that passed for food. But Clark didn't care what it was, so long as it was edible and helped give him strength against the Kryptonite poisoning. He had no idea how long he'd been imprisoned there, given that there was no sunlight to gauge the day by, but he knew that at least several days had passed. A hint of stubble was beginning to show itself on his chin.

There was little else in the room save the broken wooden chair, a bucket, and his cape, all indicating that they wanted to make his stay as uncomfortable as possible. Without any other furniture in the room with which to shield himself from the Kryptonite Clark discovered the havoc it wrought on his system when he was in constant proximity. His body would alternately heat up to extreme temperatures or drastically dip, leaving him utterly freezing. When he slept he gathered the cape around him like a blanket, wishing he could float off the concrete surface and hover in the middle of the room for some proper rest and allow his body to recuperate.

As the door swung open that day he braced himself for a fight, his muscles tensing as he struggled to gain his feet. His legs had begun to support him again, albeit for brief periods of time, but it was enough to give him the appearance of the formidable man the hired thugs knew him to be. A metal chair was placed in the room by the same man who brought him his food, and Lex Luthor followed behind with a menacing smile on his face.

"What do you want, Luthor?" he spat out as if the words were poison on his lips.

"Now now, Superman, I came here for a chat, not a brawl. So why don't you sit down and play nice, or else…" the hand he had placed in his jacket pocket pulled out a Kryptonite blade. However, unlike the shiv he'd been stabbed with on New Krypton, Clark saw that this one was reinforced with steel and had a black wooden handle for a grip.

"Nice, huh? A friend of mine made it up for me with some spare alien minerals I happened to have lying around." He let loose a chuckle. "At least this way I know the blade won't break off." Lex watched as Clark's body involuntarily shuddered at the memory. The strength which had braced his legs was now gone and he slumped back to the floor, looking like a whipped dog in front of it's power-hungry owner.

"Let's chat, shall we? We haven't had much chance to catch up since that first evening. I have to give it to you; you held your own very impressively. Must've torn your girlfriend up inside something awful…" the mocking tone and the reference to Lois caused Clark to scramble in a vain attempt to choke the bastard before him. Luthor took a swing with the knife and left a deep gash on his forearm; the superhero stumbled back from the pain and the sight of his own blood gushing down his sleeve.

"Well look at you! Take you out of society for a few days and all politeness goes out the window! Well," he snorted at his own wit, "it would if we had any windows, but we wouldn't want someone getting stronger and flying off again now would we? Not when we're having this much fun getting reacquainted," Lex added with a snarl. As I was saying,_Miss Lane_ must be having a hell of a time, don't you think? The world has pretty much given up on you, you know. The fair Mayor of Metropolis said so himself in a press conference…'Metropolis will not negotiate with terrorists' or some such tripe. I'm not a terrorist, I'm a criminal GENIUS; the only person I live to terrorize is you, and you're not even _human_." The words hit their mark, cutting Clark to the core. Luthor saw his prisoner wince and continued, "And then there's that super-powered brat your girlfriend will have to raise all alone…"

"STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!" Clark's deep timbered voice cried out, trying and failing to curb the panic while simultaneously re-confirming the madman's suspicions about the child's origins. Luthor's sarcastic grimace now changed to one of pure unadulterated malice.

"What would I want with the boy when it's your destruction I've been after all these years?!" he shouted, jumping up and wildly waving his fists and the knife in the air. Remembering himself he calmed down, and resumed his seat. "Oh I know that one day he'll become a man, and he'll want to avenge you, but I'll be too powerful for him by the time he comes of age. And when he _does_ come for me, the half-alien in him will succumb just as quickly to my superior intellect, just like his father before him. No, I will not go after the boy…I will wait for him to come to me and then seal his fate."

The adrenaline surged through Clark's body at Luthor's cold, calculating words regarding his only child. Forgetting the consequences he swung his leg around quickly, knocking Luthor off the chair while the knife flew out of his hands. A gurgled cry escaped from Lex's throat as the two wrestled for control on the ground; the captor soon regained the upper hand and delivered a blow that knocked the superhero beneath him unconscious. Three large thugs scrambled to unlock the door and get inside the room.

"It's about damn time!" Lex barked, wiping the blood from the side of his mouth away with his fist before looking down at the prone figure at his feet with a smile. "Tell Finneran to schedule the next bout. He's ready…definitely ready…"

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, September 30, 2007**. The World War III that Perry threatened would follow in the wake of Superman's abduction never materialized. Unlike six years ago, the Man of Steel hadn't abandoned the people of Earth; he didn't up and vanish in the hopes of discovering the remnants of his race and home planet. This time he was forcibly taken from the world and kept in bondage by his captors.

By making this distinction between Superman's two absences from their lives, the people of Earth rallied together instead of revolting apart. Wars still raged on, murders were unfortunately committed and robberies still took place, but their increase was only marginal when compared with the realization all those years ago that the Man of Steel had deserted them to their own fate. People saw the wretched figure that Luthor and Finneran made of him and strove to be better than that, to overcompensate for that which made those two abductors so inherently evil. It wasn't the threat of Superman's return that kept most people in line—it was the knowledge that he hadn't left willingly, hadn't forsaken all hope that humankind was intrinsically good; this was what propelled the world forward in one of it's darkest hours.

In the moments when Lois would allow herself a brief respite from working with the MPD and FBI she would catch glimpses of this kindness in the society around her. People were holding doors open for one another, drivers on the road were behaving less aggressively, and volunteers were being turned away from various charitable organizations, the turn-out having increased so much in recent weeks. But her mind was too full of other wheres and whys to notice this shift in people's attitudes in any way other than peripherally.

Martha had filed the Missing Persons report with the Police the day after the press conference. Two officers had gone through the motions, questioning Perry, Lois, and Jimmy, filing the requisite paperwork, etc. It wasn't blatantly obvious that Clark Kent wasn't priority number one, but the casual observer could tell that the minds of all the people in the precinct were otherwise engaged in a different Missing Persons case. Mrs. Kent moved into Clark's apartment after spending the first week with Lois, giving the place little homey touches which her son hadn't been able to when he was living there, knowing he'd appreciate the gesture when he came back.

Jason returned to school the week after the incident as well. At first all the other children avoided him like the plague, thinking that he was the reason behind Superman's abduction; they were too young to realize that he was just an unwitting pawn in a much larger game. Even the teachers gave Jason a wider than normal berth following his return. Only loyal Danny stood by his friend in those first few days before everyone else began to thaw toward him. Jason still remained subdued, his happy-go-lucky spirit shattered by the event that tore his father away from him, and Lois wondered if he'd ever fully recover.

Martha, Lois and Jason's lives were drawn together by this tragedy, and even though all three hearts were breaking they continued to lean on each other and soldier on through their grief. Lois' life had settled into an odd routine in the weeks that had passed, and it was one she participated in only mechanically. A typical day would start with her waking up after a few hours rest, scanning the internet or whatever paper files she'd brought home with her from City Hall the previous evening for any new leads. Next she would hop in the shower and get Jason up and ready for school, at which time Martha would come over, make a little breakfast, and drive her grandson over to Donner Elementary. Lois would then return to the FBI/MPD Headquarters at City Hall and pour all her energy into finding Clark. In the afternoon Martha would pick Jason up from school and take him to the park or back to the apartment.

The reporter-turned-investigator would leave City Hall begrudgingly in the evening and have dinner with Martha and Jason, only breaking the silence to ask polite questions of her son about his day. Once the dishes were cleared Jason would head to his bedroom to work on his homework while Lois resumed her part in the search and Martha would work on her knitting or sewing from the couch.

The television had become a forbidden object in the Lane household; no one dared to put it on unless they wanted to suffer Lois' wrath. The three had tried to resume watching it around the ninth day after Superman's abduction, only to find out on the news that a new video was making the internet rounds of another Luthor and Finneran-inspired bout. The images were absent but the news anchor's detailed account, "…Superman fought bravely for twenty-seven minutes…the attacker appeared to wield a Kryptonite-laced knife…" had Lois all but hoist the set off the ground and out the window. Once Martha calmed her down enough to divert her attention away from the inanimate object Lois got on the phone to Special Agent Woodrow to find out why she hadn't been notified of this development sooner. No one had attempted to turn the set on since.

With no television and Jason still awake the women would pass the early evening in uncomfortable silence. Then it would be time for his bath and a bedtime story, and once he was down for the night the questions and answers came pouring forth. In the beginning Lois described everything to Martha in great detail, but as time went on that began to change. The sheer volume of paperwork that the Task Force had to contend with gave her very little to report to the anxious mother of the missing man: so much of the information in those documents was extraneous to the case at hand, but it had to be dealt with anyway to cover all possible angles. A promising lead might pop up here or there, but since Lois had promised Agent Woodrow that she would stay on desk duty there wasn't much she could tell Martha beyond what was being done in the office.

And before they all knew it it was Jason's sixth birthday. Martha had found the present Clark had bought for his son still in the store bag inside his bedroom closet; a Metropolis Meteor's cap, a baseball, a child-sized bat, and a glove. Clark's own worn glove sat on a shelf nearby…_he must've gotten it out of his stuff in the barn one of those days before…before_…she felt a sob rise up in her throat at the thought. She remembered how he and Jonathan used to play, with Clark running a mile down the road and tossing the ball to his father, then running back to catch the ball before turning around and doing it all over again. They would stay at it for hours…_What if Jason never gets to play catch with his father? Oh Clark…  
_  
The day passed with little fanfare, which was what Jason had asked for. Lois tried to convince him to invite some of the kids from his class to a party at the local Pizza Palace but the boy wouldn't budge. She reluctantly got him to agree to a small party at the apartment with just her, Martha, Perry, Jimmy, Ella, Sam and Danny. They held it in the living room, eating take-out pizza and playing a few games. At one point Jason let loose a genuine laugh as his Uncle Perry tried to pin the tail on the donkey and wound up sticking poor Jimmy instead, causing the young photographer to yelp like a little girl. Lois forced a smile but her heart ached at the sight; _before he didn't know what he was missing, but now…now he knows and he can't be here_…a silent tear fell which she quickly wiped away when she thought no one was looking.

_Good thing I left Clark's present at home_, _it just would have upset us all more, _Martha thought as she caught sight of Lois' wet cheek. Noting the tears that threatened to wet her own, she quickly reminded herself that he'd be home soon to give his son the present himself.

When the cake was brought out Jason took a deep breath before carefully extinguishing all of the candles.

Only Danny asked what he wished for.


	32. Chapter 32

"**???", Day 27.** "Dammit!" Finneran cursed aloud as he looked between the ledger and the receipts before him. "Dammit Dammit Dammit!"

"What appears to be the problem here?" Lex asked as he strolled into his partner's office unbidden.

Nick shot him a contemptuous look as Luthor took a seat. The plan and it's execution up to this point had been perfect, but he could not get used to his partner's arrogance. His swagger, his demeaning tone…it was beginning to make Nick's blood boil. "We're losing money," he muttered across the table, under his breath.

"Hell we knew that this wasn't going to be a profitable venture before we even got started!"

"_Yes_," Nick said slowly, clamping down tighter on the pencil in his grip, "_but not this much_. We had _planned_ on generating a certain amount of revenue to help with the overhead costs, but _at the rate we're going_, our accounts will hemorrhage out before New Year's." He watched as his words registered with the other man.

Lex's patronizing tone went cold and conniving. "What appears to be the source of the dilemma?"

Nick stared at him a moment before responding. "We're barely getting enough viewers…and there's too much time between bouts. We didn't account for that in the original plan."

Lex let out a little cough and shifted position in his seat. "Well…that would appear to be a problem…"

"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT IT IS! I DIDN'T SWINDLE ALL THAT MONEY FOR ALL THOSE YEARS JUST TO LOSE IT ON THIS AND END UP A PENNILESS FUGITIVE!" he cried out, letting his anger overwhelm him and lift him out of his seat.

"THEN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!" Lex shouted back in equal contempt.

The two men glared at each other angrily, their nostrils flaring as they struggled to reign in their rage. Nick spoke first.

"I'm going outside. I need some fresh air, clear my head…" he moved toward the door, leaving Lex fuming in his office.

The sight of the sun and the dotted white and blue sky instantly lightened Nick's mood. _That damn bunker…no wonder we're all snapping at each other._ He inhaled deeply and then began to pace, working out the problem before him in his head. _We can't increase the cost, at least not yet, not when viewership is this low…_he took another deep breath and turned on the spot. _And there's no way we can host more fights; his body can't handle it with all the Kryptonite around. We're already pushing our luck there as it is…_the sun burst forth from behind a cloud, temporarily blinding him; it's warm rays met his upturned arm as he shielded his eyes from the glare when the thought struck him.

Opening the door back to the bunker, Finneran hastened inside and down the steps. As soon as he reached the corridor he called out gleefully, "Lex, I think I have an idea…"

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** October 2, 2007.** Lois gave herself the rare afternoon off and sat on a bench in the park watching Jason. He swung lazily on the swing for awhile, before jumping off to amble over to the sandbox. A little girl had built a castle there before being called away by her mother, and Lois watched as her son headed straight for it; but instead of creating one of his own he toppled the other child's creation by kicking it angrily with his foot.

"JASON SAMUEL LANE, GET OVER HERE THIS **INSTANT!**" he heard his Mother yell out as he stomped on the mound of sand. Shoving his hands defiantly in his pockets he picked his way across the play yard to her carefully.

She stood up and held her son by the shoulders. "What was _that_ all about young man?" she asked in a quiet but firm voice. His behavior had been so erratic since the incident—he spoke only when spoken to and rarely laughed, and then there'd been the occasional tantrum that manifested itself out of nowhere, that she didn't know what to do anymore. Lois was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"I dunno."

"Then _why_ did you do it?" She just got a shrug in response. "Jason, sit down here a minute…" Lois said, resuming her seat. He climbed up beside her.

"Honey, I know you've been talking to someone at school since the bad men came, but you know you can talk to me too, right?" Jason nodded mutely. They sat there in uncomfortable silence, watching the other kids running happily around in the park. "Well if you're not going to talk then I guess I'll have to, won't I?" She paused and took a deep breath, staring into the sad blue eyes that reminded her so much of his father.

"What happened to you scared me a lot. Did you know that?" He shook his head. "Well it did. You are the most important Little Guy in my whole world, and I don't want anything bad to ever happen to you, EVER. And when something bad almost _did_ happen it really frightened me. But you know what? You're ok and that makes me _really_ happy to know that." Jason continued to stare at her, his face remaining neutral.

"Now I'm going to tell you something else, something I haven't told ANYBODY, not even your Grandma," Lois continued in a hushed-tone. Bending down to whisper into his ear, she said, "The bad men have had Superman for awhile now, and I'm scared for him too."

The little boy's eyes went wide at the mention of his father. "I'm scared too. I wish the bad men hadn't come, then…" he looked furtively around the park to make sure he wasn't heard, "…then _Daddy_ wouldn't have come to save me and they wouldn't have taken him, and…and…" the little boy broke down into sobs wracked with guilt. It was one of the first times she'd seen him cry since his attempted kidnapping.

"Oh SWEETIE!" Lois scooped him up in her arms and held him on the bench as he bawled into her shoulder. "It's not your fault, NONE of this is!!!" _I knew I should have talked with him about this sooner; I've been so wrapped up in my own grief over all this…oh God I'm a horrible mother._ She hugged him a little tighter. "Jason, look at me," she commanded, not even noticing her own tears falling down her cheeks. "This is NOT your fault, do you understand me? These are bad people who used you to get to your Daddy but he's strong, and we're going to find him, you hear me?"

Her little boy was still crying so hard he couldn't speak, all he could do was nod his head. She pressed on, "And even though he's not here with us, your Daddy wouldn't want us to be sad for him. He loves us so much, Jason, and he wouldn't want to see us unhappy. It's ok to laugh if you see something funny, or spend time doing fun things with your friends, ok? He'd want you to be happy, just like I want you to be."

His breathing was ragged as he tried to stifle the sobs. "I…I…I…I'll t-t-try," he choked out.

"I'll try harder too, Baby. I promise."

Mother and son sat on the bench holding one another as dusk crept in, only moving when a cold fall wind ushered them out of their thoughts and back home.

* * *

_Dinner went well,_ Martha reflected as she settled herself with her knitting on the sofa and glanced at the pair in the kitchen. _Jason seems to be in a better mood; Lois too. I wonder what happened this afternoon?_ The little boy giggled as his Mom splashed water from the sink at him, and he retaliated by feebly flicking the now-damp towel in his hand at her. A small laugh escaped from Lois' lips, making the older woman smile in spite of herself.

"Now head on into your room and get your homework started…I'll be back in a little while to check on you," Lois said as she walked into the living room. As soon as she seated herself in the chair opposite Martha the smile vanished from her face. Hearing her son's bedroom door close behind him she spoke up.

"Martha, I'm a terrible Mother."

She dropped her knitting beside her and looked over at the young woman. Twenty-seven days of strain and only four to five hours of sleep a night were taking its toll; Lois looked like she'd been chewed up, spit out and chewed up again.

"Don't you EVER think that, Lois Lane…it's clear to anyone who meets him that that child _**loves you**_, and terrible parents never get close to love like that," she replied forcefully.

"But he thought it was all his fault! He thought all this…" she gestured around the room at the files from City Hall, "…came about because of him! And for almost a month I didn't have the sense to tell him otherwise! I was so wrapped up in my own pain, so busy working to try and find Clark that I neglected my own son…OUR SON! What kind of a mother does that?!" She sunk her head in her hands and began to cry.

"A mother who is under a lot of stress trying to find her son's missing father, that's who does that. Lois…Lois, Honey, look at me _please_." The young woman pulled her hands half-way down her face. "Everything happened so quickly, and you've been working so diligently to try and find Clark, but you can't blame yourself for this. What matters is that you two _have_ talked and he seems a lot better for it."

"Really? You think so?" she asked tentatively.

"Sweetheart, that's the most Jason's spoken since I first arrived! Not to mention you had him _laughing_ in the kitchen just now. You have to remember that even the best of mothers make mistakes; Lord knows I've made my share of them over the years."

"Oh Martha," she got up from her chair and moved to the sofa, clasping her hands around the older woman's neck. "If I'm half the mother to Jason that you are to Clark than I know he'll turn out ok."

"Now that's just a load of nonsense," she said, brushing the compliment away as if waving off a fly, "Jason will be fine because he's the best of both of you. Now you just dry your eyes and put those silly notions out of your head; there's a little boy down the hall waiting for you to help him with his homework." Lois withdrew from the embrace and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She started to head to the back of the apartment when the white and yellow package poking out of her purse stopped her.

"I almost forgot…I picked these up at the pharmacy earlier today. Forgot I even had them waiting for me actually, it seems like a lifetime ago. I had them make doubles, thinking I'd give some to Clark, so feel free to take some if you want…" Martha took the package Lois held out to her, pulling back the tape and reaching in for the photos. The younger woman stared for a moment before a cry of "Mom!" sent her to check on her son.

The images from the ballgame sat on the table in front of her. Jason sitting on Clark's shoulders inside the stadium…Jason staring out at the field, intent on Clark pointing something out to him…and lastly, Lois, Jason and Clark smiling broadly while standing with Moxie the Meteor; the perfect family photo. Two salty drops slid down her cheeks. _Stay strong, Son…you have so much you need to live for…stay strong…_


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** This chapter contains a very subtle nod to an episode of "Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman" Season 4 Episode 2. Just making sure to give credit where credit is due.

* * *

_**FBI/MPD Computer Crime Lab, City Hall Headquarters**_**, October 9, 2007. **Lois had cut back in her hours at City Hall only marginally since her talk with Jason, so it was in an effort to stay connected with her son that she dropped him off at school that morning instead of Martha, and was late walking down the hallway to the War Room. She passed briskly by the computer lab before doubling back, noting the lack of activity going on within. _It's awfully quiet in there…I wonder if they've found something_. The sight that greeted her was of five computer Techs gathered around one flat screen monitor—and then she heard a deep-voiced gut-wrenching scream.

The power of speech left her as she recognized the wailing voice and she maneuvered into the room behind the others unobserved. What greeted her on the monitor was the sight of the same boxing ring they had all seen the first night of Superman's capture. This time, however, the man inside with Superman was an Asian man nearly a foot shorter than his opponent, and he was holding a large staff in his hand. Lois' eyes went wide as saucers when she saw that the stick was practically glowing green.

* * *

"**???", Day 34.** The pain in his body had eased somewhat since they'd last dragged him out, but it wasn't totally gone; the Kryptonite prevented that. He heard footsteps making their way down the hall toward him and then the lock clicked open in the door. The weak hallway lighting barely had time to reach his face before the guards headed in.

"Get up!" one of them shouted at him.

Superman remained seated, channeling his energy as best he could.

"I said GET UP!" the thug shouted again, reaching a hand down to yank him to his feet.

Clark broke out of the trance the men thought he was in and grabbed the man's wrist, twisting and yanking his arm and forcing him down to the ground, where his forehead connected with a sickening thud on the concrete. The other man made to kick him and with his free hand Clark caught his boot in a vice-like grip. The man struggled awkwardly before Clark pushed him away roughly, sending him headlong into the wall, where he fell and joined his unconscious comrade on the floor.

Pushing the sweat off his brow, he rose shakily to his feet and made straight for the door, taking care to lock the two men and the Kryptonite walls inside. _Time to get out of here…_he thought as he turned to the right. Using the wall to support himself he moved as quickly as his feet would carry him down the hall toward what he hoped would be freedom. Turning left at the corner he saw three different doors at the end of the second hallway. _Now if only I could…_he strained his eyes to see beyond the wooden pine barriers, but his x-ray vision was still out of commission.

He gingerly edged his way down along the wall and placed an ear up to the first door. The sound of men arguing and of tin hitting wood informed him this was a lounge or dining area for the hired heavies. As he pulled away he thought he caught the dull thump of footsteps coming up behind him and he panicked, turning toward the two remaining doors._Alright, I have a 50/50 shot…here goes…_he jerked back the door at the very end of the hallway and the light blinded him.

"Superman! So nice of you to join us!" Finneran's voice called out before he brought the Kryptonite club down on the back of Clark's head.

* * *

He came to again in the middle of the ring, staring straight up at the ceiling. As he sat up he felt his head reel slightly, while his body, oddly enough, felt stronger. _It's not my usual strength but I'll take what I can get_, he thought as his hand felt the bō staff that had been placed beside him.

"You're like a battery, you know that Supe-y?" Finneran called out tauntingly from the sidelines to the dazed superhero. "The sun charges you up and the Kryptonite drains it away. And now we can use that to our advantage—via sun lamps and in controlled doses of course—to keep you on your toes. That was what you stumbled in on earlier—nice to see you can find your way around here without Jack and Ryan's help," the two thugs glared at Superman as their names were spoken, rubbing the still-forming bruises on their heads.

Clark got to his feet and clenched the staff tightly in his hands. He abhorred weapons of all kinds, and had never had a need to use them before now, but the bō felt oddly comfortable in his grip; he felt innately capable of wielding it well and utilizing it's full power, without quite knowing how or why. He swung it in front of him menacingly.

"That's enough, Finneran. You and Luthor are THROUGH!" he brought it down with a resounding _CRACK_ on the floor, and made a move to get out of the ring.

"No Superman, not yet…not by a long shot," he replied, opening the door behind him. Lex Luthor entered, followed by another man. The latest fighter was a young Asian man who stood about 5'5" and wore the same black pants that his other opponents had worn. But in his hands was a bō staff similar to Clark's own, only _glowing green_.

He swallowed the bile that rose up in his throat as the fear clutched at his heart and he prepared to defend himself.

* * *

_**FBI/MPD Computer Crime Lab, City Hall Headquarters**_**, October 9, 2007. **She had no idea how long he'd been warring against his Kryptonite-wielding opponent but Clark certainly didn't look good. He was pale, and his hair, heavy with sweat, hung limply in front of his face. The tears in his clothes and burn marks on his skin indicated that the Asian man had gotten several hits in, yet she observed Clark wielding the bō, and saw him sparring fairly well against the more experienced man. _But he hates weapons, he said he never touched one unless he was disarming somebody…how does he know how to do that?_

It was then that Clark lost his footing and the man jabbed him in the middle of his chest with the staff, holding it there. Lois watched in horror as the Kryptonite weapon burned through the emblem of the house of El and hissed as it connected with Clark's bare skin. He screamed at the pain and sank to his knees, his opponent not breaking contact. When Clark dropped his weapon and looked about ready to keel over the Asian man pulled it back, twirling it over Superman's head before whacking him one more time across the soldiers. That sent him toppling to the floor face first, and Lois saw the burn marks criss-crossing his back.

"**NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"** she screamed, startling all the others in the room. Unable to turn her rage on Finneran and Luthor she unleashed it on the five Techs before her. "**HOW CAN YOU DO THIS?!? HOW CAN YOU WATCH THEM KILL HIM AND NOT DO A DAMN THING ABOUT IT!?!? THIS ISN'T A SPORT YOU FUCKING IDIOTS THIS IS TORTURE! WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU STOPPING THI**…" the horrified Technicians watched as Agent Henrickson came up behind her, grabbing her by her sides and lifted her up and out of the room. Lois cursed and screamed and hit him once in his bread basket, but he didn't relinquish his grip on her. He set her down on a hard plastic seat in the break room and brought over two mugs of coffee. She was still fuming under her breath when he finally let her go.

"Lois," he said, breaking her tirade. She shot him a look and he felt as if she'd literally burned him. _I wouldn't be surprised if she'd picked up heat vision from him, all the time those two spent together…_he shot her a look back and changed tactics.

"Look, Lane, I know you're taking this hard," he said gruffly. "We're ALL taking this hard, but you're the one that's got the personal connection to him and therefore you think you're entitled to be angrier about this than the rest of us. We're not sitting on our asses here, Lois; those people back there were watching the fight for_**clues**_, not for the hell of it. Every blow he takes hurts them as much as it hurts him, but they're forcing themselves to watch it to see if they can pick up anything useful."

Al let out a low and weary sigh. "You know, before you got in today I saw that young guy Eric come out of the bathroom after throwing up, and he'd already watched the footage _twice_." Lois immediately felt guilty, and wrapped her hands around the mug to warm the chill that shot through her as she dwelt on her behavior.

"They're looking for anything, Lois; a stray newspaper, a piece of mail, a deli food wrapper left lying around…any of those things can appear in the frame and help us pinpoint Superman's location. I'm telling you this NOW so that you don't lose your shit again on those poor people who are trying their damndest to do their jobs; they feel just as miserably about all this as you do." She looked up at him with apologetic hazel eyes. His voice softened a little. "So, no more fits in the Computer Lab from now on, ok?"

All she could do was nod; seeing Clark thrashing about in pain, hearing _him_ scream—it was enough to take the fight out of her, if only for the moment.

"Good," he replied, looking down at his coffee. After what they had both witnessed neither one of them had the stomach for the brown brew, so they sat together in silence, wondering when the nightmare would end.


	34. Chapter 34

"**???", Day 76.** The phone rang on Finneran's desk late one evening and he tore himself away from the receipts to answer it. Since he'd found the solution to their little 'problem' revenue had gone up while Superman's morale had sunk. Nick had to chuckle at how he and Lex had succeeded so very well; they both agreed that right now the Man of Steel looked more homeless than hero. His suit was in tatters and his face was caked in dirt…_The alien's even sporting a beard! I didn't know he was even capable of growing facial hair, but I guess extra-terrestrial beings can surprise you like that. Now, if only we could break his spirit, then the victory would be all the sweeter…_He cradled the receiver in his hand and said nothing, listening to the heavy breathing from the other end.

"Sir?"

"Oh geez, it's you. You know, you're not even worth putting on the payroll, you've been absolutely useless these last few months…"

"They're coming," the man on the other end interrupted hastily.

"Coming?" Finneran asked, trying to curb the panic he felt bubbling up. "When?"

"NOW!"

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** November 20, 2007.** Lois had been going over some of Marganic's warehouse records with another young officer when she happened to glance down at her watch. "SHIT!" she screamed. The man next to her jumped, his eyes darting wildly around to see what he'd done to upset her. "Not you," she said simply, turning to grab her coat, "I'm late for my son's pageant. SHIT!"

As she drove through traffic to reach Donner Elementary, Lois thought back on her life over the last few months. Jason was doing somewhat better; psychologically he still hadn't fully recovered from the trauma of September 6th but he was acting more like a child and less like a sullen old man. The other students at the school were more neutral toward him and the teachers had also stopped keeping their distance._He even came home gloating about a time-out that he got for talking after the teacher told him not to! That there is proof that he's my son_…

Martha, on the other hand, was not coping well at all. The longer Clark was gone the more distant she became, only anchoring herself to little Jason; Lois thought that if it weren't for the presence of _her_ boy Martha's mind would have broken entirely by now. No request from Jason was too small or too great—of course, had he been anyone other than Clark's son he would have taken advantage of the situation, but the child was benevolence itself and relatively oblivious to his grandmother's pampering.

The two women had talked and Lois had convinced Martha to go back to the farm after Thanksgiving, on the condition that she and Jason would come out to Smallville for Christmas. _Her friend Ben and his family have been looking after things for her, but I think she'll do better surrounded by friends at home. I shouldn't have let her stay at Clark's apartment for so long by herself, it just hasn't been healthy. Oh Martha, I'm trying so hard to hold it together for all of us…you've got to hang on, for my sake as well as for Jason's, but especially for Clark's._

Lois honked her horn as a small sports car darted in front of her, not bothering to use its blinker. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard she saw that she had five minutes until the Thanksgiving pageant started. "Cutting it close, Lane," she muttered under her breath as she pulled into the crowded parking lot. The first graders were in charge of the Thanksgiving Holiday entertainment at the school this year and Jason was to be a pilgrim in the re-enactment of the first Thanksgiving. She hustled into the gymnasium and saw Martha waving at her from the fifth row. His grandmother had devoted a whole week to making Jason's costume, and when the curtain went up Lois had to admit that her son was the smartest looking colonist in the bunch.

Thirty minutes later Jason's big line was coming up when she felt a buzzing sensation emanating from inside her purse. _My cell phone…do I answer it now, or do I wait?_ She watched as her son fidgeted nervously on-stage, glancing at his mother and grandmother while waiting for his cue. _But what if it's important? __**Well then, they'll call back.**__ But what if it's __really__ important?__** You would have heard something before you left City Hall if it was **__**that**__** important**__…_She stopped debating with herself as the phone ceased to vibrate and Jason stepped forward to deliver his line.

"And I have brought maize from my fields to this feast, our first Thanksgiving," he made eye contact with the two of them at the end, grinning wildly as he stepped back into line with the other pilgrims. The phone rang again. This time she pulled it out and saw that it was Lt. Henrickson calling her. _He must be looking for the file that guy and I were working on…_she motioned to Martha that she was going to step outside and take the call.

She flipped open the phone. "Hey Al, listen, I left the warehouse records with the new guy…"

"Lois, it's about damn time you answered your phone!"

"I'm sorry but I told you I had Jason's recital…"

Al interrupted her and breathlessly cried out, "We think we've found him!"

Lois felt her whole body go numb as she slid to the floor in the hallway. The kids' voices and the parents' clapping had all faded away in the background, only the words "We've found him" echoed in her ears.

"Lois, you still there?" he asked nervously, thinking she'd fainted.

"Y-yeah. YEAH! Yeah I'm still here. Where is he? What are you doing?"

"We're rolling on it right now, Lane; they're in Rordenville, about two hours outside of Metropolis. We'll be there shortly. And don't you even THINK about following us…"

"Hadn't even crossed my mind," she replied honestly. "How did you find out he was there?"

"Funny thing that was. Turned out that in that long list of vendors was a little family-owned company that made doors; all types, handcrafted. Well, Marganic bought about thirty or so doors from these people and had them delivered to Rordenville. About ten of the doors they ordered were _lead-lined_."

Lois' heart skipped a beat. It was plausible, but the oft-berated reporter heard her Editor-in-Chief's voice nagging at her in the back of her mind that the evidence was circumstantial, at best. She blurted out "Lead-lined doors? You're basing two months worth of investigative work on ten lead-lined doors?"

His sarcasm came biting back. "Did I mention that the man that placed the order was one of the goons on the playground that day? Or that he paid in cash and had them delivered to an address in Rordenville that is completely empty? Or that the company has never even _remotely_ considered building a facility there, let alone ordering thirty doors to that effect?"

"Oh."

"Well _OK_ then. Now stop peppering me with questions, we don't know what we're walkin' into here and I have to get ready. Get your kid home safe and sound and I'll call you as soon as the smoke's cleared, I promise."

"Ok…and Al?"

"Yeah?"

"Be safe. And tell Clarissa that goes double for her too."

"Will do."

"And Al?"

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes?"

"Bring him home safe too," she said in a small, un-Lois like voice.

He dropped his voice as well. "We will."

Lois didn't even bother hanging up the phone, she just burst into the gymnasium in time to see Martha release Jason from a hug. "You were wonderful, Sweetheart!" she said as she rushed over to her son and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed back, happy that she was able to be there. What Jason missed was the twinkling in her hazel eyes and the huge grin on her face that betrayed more than just pride at his performance in the play. Martha finally looked away from Jason long enough to notice.

"Lois, what is it?" she asked curiously.

"They think they found him," she said in a whisper to the two of them. "They think they found Cl—_Superman,_ and they're going to bring him home, hopefully tonight." Martha's hands flew up to her face and she went speechless, while Jason raced backstage and back to his mother so fast that had everyone else not been preoccupied with their own children he would have drawn several suspicious glares.

"What are we_waiting for_?!?!" he cried in a tone very much like his mother. "Let's go home!!!!" The three dashed out to the car without another word.

* * *

_**Rordenville Bunker**_**, Day 76.** Bruce strode down the hallway at a quick pace, hastily unlocking the door to Superman's cell and dragging a metal chair inside. Clark braced himself against the corner of the room, his heart pounding in his chest, while he ignored the burning sensation on the exposed parts of his back and his hands. Bruce could tell that the prisoner was going to give him a hell of a time…_Not that I blame him after everything we've done to him over the last few weeks…_he chuckled in spite of himself…_but things would go a lot more smoothly for me if he'd just sit in the fucking chair…_

Dan walked in behind Bruce, carrying a small tray in his hands.

"Come on, let's hurry up, the Bosses said we gotta do this fast," Dan said.

Bruce looked over at Superman, still standing defensively against the wall. "Get in the chair."

Clark's face filled with rage; Bruce thought he saw a glimmer of red in his eye and was momentarily afraid of getting burned. Taking a step forward, Bruce said again, "Get in the goddamn chair!"

An awkward punch was thrown which Bruce easily dodged, sending Clark's hand straight into the Kryptonite; the crunch of wall and bone echoed in the room, followed by a groan of pain. Bruce seized the opportunity and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, forcing him into the chair. Another thug walked by carrying a wooden crate of belongings.

"Hey you!" Bruce yelled to the man. "Get in here and give us a hand, would ya?"

The man complied and now the two of them held a struggling Clark in his seat. Dan pulled off the top of the tray to expose a small rock of Kryptonite and a large needle.

"Wh—what…what are you DOING?!?" Clark shrieked out in horror. His parents had instilled a fear of needles in him from a young age in an attempt to protect him from becoming a government lab rat. He started thrashing about with renewed vigor, sweating profusely from the proximity of the extra large chunk of Kryptonite, and the two thugs had a hard time controlling him.

"HOLD HIM STILL!"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK WE'RE DOING!?!"

"JUST STICK HIM WITH IT ALREADY!"

Clark kept on kicking like wild, scrambling to get away. The man held the Kryptonite rock close enough to the skin so he could puncture it with the needle.

"How much do I give him?" Dan asked, turning to Bruce as he pushed the liquid through the man's arm.

"Boss says give it all," Bruce replied through gritted teeth.

"ALL? But…"

"HEY! BOSSES' ORDERS, REMEMBER?"

Dan let out a sigh. "Alright…" he replied, pushing the plunger harder.

The warm liquid pulsed up Clark's right arm, causing it to go numb. _So this is how I die, by lethal injection…I'm so sorry, Lois. I love you. I never stopped loving you, never stopped loving you or our son. I'm so sorry, Lo…_and then there was nothing but darkness and his body went slack in the chair.

The third goon hastened out of the room and back to his box, unnerved but what had just transpired. Bruce took his hands off of Superman's shoulders and wiped a bit of sweat off his brow.

"Finally! Jesus that was a pain in the ass! Now get him out of here…"


	35. Chapter 35

_**Metropolis, **_**November 21, 2007.** It was 1 am and neither of the grown-ups felt like sleeping. Jason dozed fitfully on the couch under the watchful eye of his Grandmother who was absent-mindedly stroking his hair; the boy had refused to go to bed until the phone call came in. When they'd gotten back from his pageant earlier in the evening they were all so hopeful of having Clark back by Thanksgiving until Lois felt a strange chill run down her spine and a sense of foreboding stole over her. It was such an odd sensation, one she couldn't quite place her finger on, and since no one had called her yet with an update her hope had slowly begun to ebb.

The cordless phone rang and the two women jumped as the sound pierced through the quiet living room. Lois grabbed it and punched the TALK button before she'd even caught her breath.

"Hello? Hello, Lois?" a grainy, faraway voice said.

She sobbed heavily, unable to speak. _They found him, he's alright…Thank God they found him…_

"Is anybody there? It's Richard," he replied, the connection fading in and out.

She sucked in her breath sharply and sat ramrod straight in the chair. "Richard? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry, I know I'm calling you late, but you know how hard it's been for me to get to a phone over here. I wanted to check in on you and the Munchkin and to see if Clark had been found yet or if there'd been any new developments in the Superman case."

Had he seen her crestfallen face he would have stopped the conversation right there, but Lois bucked up and replied, "Jason and I are…well, we're doing ok, given the circumstances. And no, Clark's not back yet—there's still no news there. As for Superman, well, the authorities are working on a lead right now."

Richard paused on the other end of the line. "Oh…listen, Lois, if you want me to go I'll call back another time…"

"NO! I mean, no Richard, you don't have to go. I'm sorry I'm just…I'm so on edge right now, I don't know half of what's coming out of my mouth. And I appreciate the concern, really I do."

"It's ok...I know you're stressed, I just don't want to add to it."

"Thanks…" she turned and caught a glimpse of her son. "Would you like to talk to Jason? He's right here, and I'm sure he'd love to hear from you."

"Well yeah, that would be great! That is, if you're sure it's alright…"

"Richard…"

"Ok, ok, put him on the line!" She could practically hear the huge smile break out on his face. Lois bent down next to her boy and gently shook him awake.

"Jason…Jason, Baby, there's someone on the phone for you…" he came out of his slumber slowly, then when he remembered why he was on the couch in the living room and saw the outstretched phone he grabbed it eagerly.

"DADDY!!!!!" he cried into the phone. "DADDY WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU ALRIGHT? I MISSED YOU!!!!"

"Hey Buddy, I missed you too! And I'm still in Iraq, remember, like we talked about a few months ago?"

Jason looked up confusedly at his Mother. _Iraq? Why did the bad men take him there?..._at the realization that it was Daddy Richard on the phone Jason tried bitterly to contain his disappointment.

"I'm glad you're ok," he said much more quietly.

Richard was so excited to have a chance to talk to the boy he'd once called his son that he didn't notice the change in tone at all. "I'm glad you're ok too! So how's school? Are you still getting all A's?"

"Mostly…'cept for a B in gym class."

"A B in gym! Jason, that's great!"

"Thanks." He heard the connection go in and out, and some orders being barked out in the background.

"Jason, Jason, I have to go. Tell your Mother I'm sorry I couldn't talk longer. Take care, Munchkin, and be good. I love you."

"I love you too." He hung up the phone and handed it back to Lois. "He had to go…he said he was sorry."

"That's ok…now how about you get some rest in your room? Grandma and I will both tuck you in…"

"NO! Not until they find Daddy!" the little boy began to pout.

"Ok then you can stay here. We'll all stay he--" the phone rang again. All three jumped as Lois grabbed the line. "Hello?"

"Lois? It's Agent Woodrow."

"Clarissa! Are you alright? What happened? What's happening? Where's Superman? Is he ok?"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news for you…" Martha and Jason saw Lois' face go white. "They're gone. We found the bunker where they were keeping him. It was just an abandoned field with a fence around it and a tiny little shed in the middle; turns out that that shed led to a labyrinth of rooms underneath. It looks like they stripped down most of the equipment and incinerated anything too incriminating. Lois, they just hauled ass out of here. These last few hours we've set up a search grid and road blocks to see if we could catch up with them but we've had no luck."

She waited a moment for the sob to pass before trusting herself to speak. "A-and Superman? They…"

"As far as we can tell they still have him. All we found was…" she started to say, then thought better of it. "Never mind, it's not important."

"What did you find?" Lois said, her speech very terse.

Agent Woodrow let loose a tired sigh. "All that was left was his cape…it was in a cell, a horrible little hell hole. The walls were covered in Kryptonite—that's how they kept him subdued for so long, why they needed so much of the stuff."

Now she really couldn't stop crying. Martha and Jason stared at her, fearing the worst.

"Don't you worry, Lane, we're onto them now, and we're sure to get 'em again. You just have to hang in there, we ALL have to hang in there…tomorrow's another day."

All Lois could do was nod into the phone and sob some more.

"Right, well…we'll see you back at Headquarters, ok? Get some rest."

Lois cradled the phone in her hands and bent over her knees in her chair. Martha's face had gone as pale as Lois', and the fact that the young woman wasn't jumping up and down for joy did not bode well for news of her son.

"Lois, what is it? Did they…? Is he…?"

"They think he's still alive," she managed to choke out, not looking up into either of their faces. "They just...they just don't know where. They were gone by the time the authorities pulled up. But they think he's still alive."

Now it was Jason's turn to start crying. Martha pulled him close to her. "I want my DADDY!" he shouted into her shoulder.

"Shh shh shh," she said, rubbing the boys back gently, the way she used to with Clark years before. "It's going to be alright, Jason, it's going to be alright." Martha's vacant-eyed stare went right through Lois as she looked up and caught sight of the two of them on the sofa.

"No."

Martha shook herself out of her trance and looked at the young woman. "What?"

"No, it's not alright." She jumped up and grabbed her jacket and purse. "Jason, Mommy's going back to City Hall to try and find Daddy. I'm not giving up on him, nor am I going to waste another minute here crying. We **ARE** going to find Clark," she slipped her jacket on over her shoulders and eyed Martha as she spoke those last words. Then she bent down next to Jason and kissed his forehead. "Be good for Grandma, I'll be back later."

And with that she stalked out the door.

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** November 22, 2007.** Thanksgiving morning dawned bright and early with a very haggard and determined-looking Lois sitting at her desk in her apartment, poring over paperwork and photos. The authorities had found spare video equipment, a few wiped down computers, some memos about protocol and a couple personal effects in the Rordenville bunker, but nothing to indicate where they'd fled to next. The pictures tore at Lois from the inside, but the image that haunted her most from that place was the one of the cell itself. 

She was told that the room was 14 feet by 14 feet, and she saw that there were no light fixtures on the ceiling and no windows on the walls. There was a bucket in one corner and a metal chair in the middle of the room with some rust-colored stains on the floor underneath it. The floor was constructed of solid concrete, but the walls…the walls were made out of cinder block and had been coated in a mixture of black rubber paint and Kryptonite. The green rocks sparkled from the flash of the photo, taunting Lois with their sheen.

She'd told herself after Wednesday morning's phone call that she wouldn't let herself break down anymore, that no more tears would be shed until he came home…yet they threatened to come unbidden anyway. She mentally cursed herself for her lack of self-control; in the last two and a half months she felt as if she'd cried more than in all her thirty-one years combined. As she choked down a sob she felt a pair of hands come to rest on her shoulders and she turned around to see Martha standing behind her; she'd come in using the spare key Lois had given her weeks before and was there to help prepare the day's big meal.

"It's ok to cry," she said in a quiet voice.

"I don't_want_ to cry anymore. It doesn't help me, it doesn't help Clark—it doesn't help anyone!!!!"

"Well it's not going to help anyone by bottling it up inside either," she replied smartly, before letting out a startled cry of "OH!" Lois hadn't had a chance to cover the pictures up when Martha crept up behind her, and she saw the photo in her hands.

Lois' face grew red. "I can't understand it, I just can't understand it…why are they so intent on torturing him like this? He's never done anything but help…"

"I can see why they'd do it," Martha replied.

She looked up at her suddenly, completely unnerved by the older woman's rapid response; it was the last phrase she'd ever expected to hear pass Martha Kent's lips.

Martha persisted. "Part of it is because he's different, Lois, and people are afraid of what's different. When Jonathan and I found him even _we_ were a little frightened by him; that only lasted a minute, mind you, before we started loving him with all of our hearts. But we knew that because of that momentary fright we would have to hide him while he was growing up; we had to help him lead a 'normal' life so as to avoid that panic in others. People hate and fear what's different from them in equal measure, and Clark's gifts, no matter how much good he uses them for, will always instill that in a portion of the people of the world. These two men have just taken their hatred and fear of him to an extreme I've never seen, and they've gone and added their own personal vendettas into the mix. If only people knew Clark, _really_ knew him like we do, they'd see that there's more to him than his abilities..."

"They'd see his humanity."

"Precisely."

Lois looked up into her face a moment before finding the right words. "Martha…" she scrunched up her face in concentration as she stared at the woman, "I've seen the way you zone out sometimes and it frightens me. But then you say something like this, come in here and explain everything in a way that makes so much sense…I know you're a strong woman but I worry about the toll this stress is taking on you, physically _and_ emotionally. If something happens to you he'd never forgive himself, he just wouldn't."

The older woman let loose a sigh. "I know, Dear, and I'm trying. It's just that violence like this has never found it's way to my doorstep before, and seeing images like this, knowing that Clark's life is in jeopardy…" she paused, almost losing her last reserve of self-control. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she steadied herself, taking a deep breath before saying, "I'm just having a hard time coping. But I didn't make it all these years as his mother to give up the ghost now." She paused again before finishing. "I think it's a good idea though, your sending me back to Smallville. Of course I worry about you and Jason, but I think being in a place with people I've known all my life will help me until my son comes home. And I'm always just a plane ride away if you need me."

"And vice versa." Lois laid a hand on top of one of Martha's, and they stayed there in satisfied silence until the clock chimed 6:45 am.

"Well, what do you say we get that bird in the oven? I know your family isn't able to make it today but I bet Jimmy's looking forward to a home-cooked meal, and Perry probably wouldn't be too keen on Chinese take-out…" Martha said, heading into the kitchen followed by a calmer Lois Lane.

* * *

Jimmy and Perry arrived at 1 pm on the dot, contributing a salad and a dessert to the meal, respectively. Martha had met them a few times in her weeks in Metropolis, and had come to appreciate her son's friend and boss…_they're good people, just like him._

"Hey, Mrs. Kent," Jimmy said, coming over to her and shaking her hand after depositing his coat in the closet, "How are you doing? You alright?"

His solicitousness reminded her of her absent son, bringing an odd smile to her face. "I'm doing as well as can be, James, thanks for asking."

He leaned in toward her, not wanting to be heard by the entire room. "You know, Mrs. Kent, I just know CK is going to turn up soon. They almost found Superman, and if they can get a break in a case like that then I'm sure they'll be able to find Clark soon too."

"Thank you, Dear, I know the Metropolis Police are doing everything they can, and I haven't lost hope yet."

Perry looked over at the two of them and barked, "Olsen, stop harassing Kent's Mother! Now go see if Lois needs any help in the kitchen!"

Jimmy jumped up from his conversation with Mrs. Kent, eyes wide. "Yes Chief! Going Chief!" he cried out even though they weren't in the office. He hastened off into the other room.

Perry chuckled at the boy as he scampered out of sight. Once he was gone the Editor-in-Chief strode over to Martha; she knew that behind the gruff exterior was a man who truly cared for Lois, Clark and James, just as much as she did.

"I hope he didn't upset you there, Mrs. Kent; we all just want Clark to come home safe and sound."

She smiled sweetly at him as he placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "How many times do I have to ask you to call me Martha, Perry? And no, James didn't upset me, I know they'll find my son."

"Good, good," he replied, giving her shoulder a squeeze. They watched as Lois put Jimmy and Jason to work setting the table. The little boy was putting down the silverware while the photographer set down the plates, avoiding his Boss' gaze.

"Oh shoot! Um…Jason, could you come in here a moment, Sweetie? Mommy needs your help…" He headed into the kitchen.

"I better go see if she needs me too," Martha said, following close behind. Lois' cooking had been improving steadily under her tutelage, and she wanted to make sure that nothing was amiss.

Martha walked into the kitchen and saw that Lois had an open bottle of wine extended toward Jason. "Can you cool this down for Mommy, Honey?" she asked innocently. Martha watched in amazement as Jason inhaled deeply, a little o on his lips, and blew on the wine bottle. Icy crystals snaked up the glass sides until they reached the warmth of his Mother's hand. "Thank you, Sweetie." He smiled up at his Mom before heading back out to the living room to color while his Uncle Perry and Jimmy settled down on the sofa to watch the football game.

"How long has he been able to do that?" Martha asked interestedly.

"He learned how to do it a few days before I found out about Clark and…" she made the little flying motion with her hand. "He wanted to learn how to whistle, and when I started to teach him I noticed how cold his breath got. I knew I wouldn't be able to help him master any of his other powers, so I took the chance to help him with his 'super-breath'," she said beaming, remembering all the practicing she and her son had done before 'Superman's' visit. "You should have seen Clark's face when Jason did it for the first time, he was so proud…" Lois smiled at the memory, before newer, crueler ones bubbled to the surface.

"It's ok, Lois, we're all missing him. Today and everyday," she said, enveloping the young woman in a hug.

* * *

Perry sat himself at one end of the table, with Jimmy and Martha seated side-by-side on his right hand side while Jason sat closest to his mother and across from his grandmother. He gave his great-nephew a wink as the boy sat swinging his legs in his seat, eyes gleaming at all the good food. Lois stepped out of the kitchen triumphantly carrying a golden brown turkey and set it down before Perry. 

Both he and Jimmy stared at the turkey, then at Lois, and back to the turkey. Lois swore she saw saliva dripping out the corner of the young photographer's mouth as both men sat mute in their chairs, eying the delicious bird. The older man was the first to find his voice, "Martha, was this all your doing?"

"No it was not; I only supervised. This is all Lois." That effectively shut Perry up again as he stared from the turkey to the cook.

Lois glared at them both. "What?"

Jimmy attempted an answer. "It's just that…well gosh, you're not exactly known around the office as the best cook going, you know? And this is…it…it's just…"

"It's absolutely amazing, Dear," Martha finished for him.

"Thank you, but you know I couldn't have done it without you." Lois reached out a hand and squeezed Martha's reassuringly. "Ok, now who would like to say grace?"

Perry accepted the task. Taking each other's hands, they all bowed their heads as he said, "Dear Lord, thank you for this food we are about to receive, and thank you for looking out for the health and well-being of those at this table. We also ask that you continue to look out for the health and well-being of Clark Kent, our missing son and friend, wherever he may be. We pray that you bring him home to us safely, and soon. Amen."

"Amen," they repeated in chorus.


	36. Chapter 36

_**Schuster Prison**_**, November 22, 2007.** Sven Inglarsson sat dejectedly in his cell and knew he had absolutely nothing to be thankful for. He was in a foreign country where he barely knew the language, had been caught working in a Kryptonite smuggling ring and now sat in jail with other inmates who only recently started treating him like a demigod.

Things hadn't always been this way; when he was first incarcerated Sven kept to himself, and only those on the inside looking for trouble had sought him out. He'd gotten a few black eyes and bruised ribs here and there--nothing too intolerable--but then Lex Luthor and Nick Finneran began airing their 'Superman Smackdowns' on the internet.

If Sven was quiet before then he was damn near _invisible_ once the bouts began. He'd caught a little of the footage that was aired and re-aired on the TV that first night and felt sick to his stomach; especially when the inmates were wildly cheering Superman's opponent on. It was Sven's ignorance of his own actions that had helped bring about the superhero's downfall and he was utterly remorseful for the part he played in the whole mess.

When the fights began occurring more frequently, prison systems around the country rallied together to crack down on inmates' computer time in a vain effort to curb the viewership. So many of the inhabitants of these prisons had been hand delivered to their cells by the Man of Steel himself, that to see him so weakened and brutalized felt to them like personal vindication. The prisoners circumvented every barrier that the guards and wardens erected and watched the videos anyway, taking delight in Superman's torture.

Word soon got around Schuster Prison that their resident Netherlander had played a part in the scheme. Sven started receiving slaps of congratulation on the back, special favors in the mess hall and lounge, and 'protection' from those few inmates who still wished to harass him. They even took to calling him by a nickname…Green. It all made Sven nauseous. He hated every minute of it and wished every day with all his might that he had had the gall to refuse the job the moment his cousin Carl first brought it up.

So as Sven sat in his cell, staring out the barred window at the barren exercise yard below, he knew that he had nothing to be thankful for during his first Thanksgiving holiday in America.

* * *

"**???", Day 79.**Clark came to feeling nauseous and dehydrated. _My head can't take much more of this..._he thought groggily.

He took stock of his surroundings and realized he was in a new cell. He knew this because his cape was missing, there was a thin mattress on the floor, and the dimensions were smaller than in his previous prison. _We must have vacated the other prison…But why? Why risk moving me?..._His mind struggled to find an answer under the heavy drug-induced fog…_Because people are still looking for me! Lois is still looking for me! Oh thank God!_ He never doubted Lois, but the pain combined with his prolonged imprisonment made him believe that the authorities considered him a lost cause.

He lay back down with a small smile on his face at the prospect of being rescued, staring up at the ceiling and hoping to stop the double vision dancing before his eyes. A key turned in the doorway and he glanced over to see one of the men from before the move walk in, but Clark was too dizzy and sore to defend himself.

"Hey hey, you're awake! Old Dan thought he'd killed you with those horse tranquilizers back there, but the Bosses knew better than that. Now here's your food; you better eat up, cause tomorrow you're back in front of the cameras," the man said with a menacing wink as he tossed Clark some clothes and placed the food and water on the ground. He grabbed the shirt and held it out in front of him; the symbol of the House of El had been drawn on in black marker, taunting him with its distortion.

Clark's brain knew better than to have reacted so irrationally, but his body overrode his mind's decision and he rolled over and charged at the man as he bent down with the tray of food. The two collapsed in a gasping heap on the floor and Clark got a swift punch in the gut for his trouble.

"The sooner you learn to cooperate…" the man said, getting up and leaving him in a heap gulping for air on the floor, "…the easier this all becomes. Now eat up, Fly Boy." He slammed the door shut behind him, turning the lock in place loudly and leaving Clark once again plunged in hellish darkness.

* * *

_**FBI / MPD War Room, Makeshift Metropolis Headquarters,**_** December 18, 2007.** Martha returned to Smallville a few days after Thanksgiving, leaving Lois and Jason to adjust to a new routine while continuing to search for Clark. The mood among the Task Force was more hopeful, given how close they came to finding him the last time, and they attacked their leads with vigor.

Lois walked by the copy room one day when she spied Special Agent Chase surreptitiously standing over the paper shredder, several documents in hand.

"What are you doing?" she asked in an accusatory voice, startling him out of his work.

He quickly composed himself. "I'm shredding files, what does it look like I'm doing?" Spencer Chase never trusted himself around Lois Lane; he found her too headstrong and dodgy for his liking, and he tended to work as far away from her as possible. To be called out by her like this he also found extremely irritating.

"How do you know there isn't something in there that will help us find Superman? You know you really shouldn't shred anything."

He snapped. "May I see your badge, Miss Lane?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your badge, may I see it?"

"You know I don't have one."

"Exactly, so why don't you let me do my job and you run along and _play_ detective, ok?" He went back to shredding his paperwork.

Lois glared at him; she had several choice words on her tongue, but he was right when he said that she wasn't an actual detective. Much as it infuriated her she kept silent, walking away with a continued dislike of Agent Chase.

* * *

"**???", December 25, 2007.** "Merry Christmas, Mr. Luthor," Finneran said to him, raising his glass as they sat in their study.

"Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Finneran," he replied, clinking glasses before they respectively swallowed their brandy.

The groans and shouts could be heard from the room behind them where the men were enjoying a gift from their employers; five minutes apiece going toe-to-toe with the Man of Steel.

* * *

_**FBI / MPD War Room, Makeshift Metropolis Headquarters,**_** December 28, 2007.** Lois was still reeling from having to spend another holiday without Clark when she returned to work on Friday. It was bad enough that she had to leave the Task Force behind for five days, but it was worse being in Smallville and surrounded by so many photos and knick knacks of Clark's youth without the benefit of him being there too.

The afternoon before Christmas Eve Martha brought down a very unusual photo album into the living room while Jason was outside busily constructing a snowman. Lois stared vacantly in the fireplace, feeling like a fish out of water without any paperwork to rummage through, absently holding a glass of eggnog. Martha sat down gently next to her and held the book close to her chest. It took a moment before Lois broke her gaze with the fireplace to turn and face the older woman; she quickly noted the book in her hands.

"Jonathan and I…well, we wanted to capture all the special moments in our son's life, and I do mean _all_ of them. I started taking up amateur photography when Clark was a teenager; luckily it happened to coincide around the time that he truly came into his powers. Oh he'd always been strong and fast, but everything else—the x-ray vision, the hearing, all of that, it didn't develop until later. So as he mastered each new gift, we captured it on film, something to look back on later when he was all grown up," she paused and looked at the cover of the book lovingly.

"I wish you'd gotten to know Clark's father. Jonathan was a good man, the best husband and father anyone could have asked for. He and Clark had such a special bond…even during Clark's teenage years, which everyone told us would be the worst. The few people that didn't know Clark wasn't our own flesh and blood were always surprised at how close a family we were—as if they thought that just because he was adopted we'd love each other any less," Martha said, waving off the non-sensical notions of a few backwards locals. "I wish my husband had gotten to meet you too of course, you and Jason, and to see the man Clark's become. He'd be so proud…then again, what with everything that's going on now…" she stared off into space a moment with a sad hang dog look on her face before recollecting herself. "Well, I'm glad he's not here to see this. You see, Dear, I thought that now might be a good time for you to look at these photos, to know what Clark was like as a teenager. I've never been able to share this book with another living soul save for Jonathan, until you came along, and I thought we could reminisce…" she handed the album over to Lois, who quickly accepted it and sat cross-legged on the couch to better support the outspreading pages.

The first several images were of Clark jumping over the fields at various ungodly heights. Martha informed her that in the beginning he didn't know he could defy gravity entirely, and that his favorite pastime was jumping through the corn…"He said he loved the way the sun hit him full on the face—that was before we knew it was where he got his strength from," she told the young woman sifting through the photographs with her. The batch of flying pictures came next; Clark tentatively hovering over the ground by the front steps, going horizontal along fence posts, then surprising his father by flying up behind him and plunking a hat on his head—the older woman burst out laughing when she saw that one.

"I didn't set that shot up like that, you know. I was testing out perspectives and had Jonathan standing in front of the East field so I had something to focus on when Clark caught sight of us from the doorway. So what does he do? Our mischievous boy grabs his father's hat and just as I'm about to push the button he sneaks up from behind and plops it down on his Jonathan's head! It all happened in the blink of an eye and he startled us both so badly I dropped my brand new camera! He caught it too, with those quick reflexes of his, otherwise I would've had his hide…" she chuckled while Lois outright laughed at the thought of Martha Kent giving a teenaged Clark a sound spanking.

They flipped the page and the next image that greeted her was one of him grinning madly for the camera as he hovered up by the barn loft, happy as a clam…_he looks so much like Jason there it's uncanny,_ Lois thought as her hand touched the photograph. _I still can't believe I didn't see it sooner…_Still more photos showed Clark practicing his heat vision on old bales of hay, then using his breath to put the fires out and start again. Next was a show of him using tin cans set on fence posts hundreds of yards away as targets as he was able to better control the direction of his fiery gaze.

Obviously it wasn't possible to capture all of Clark's emerging abilities on film, but Martha did catch him in one of his klutzier moments and the facial expression he wore reminded her so much of the bumbling man she'd know for years around the office that Lois couldn't stop herself from laughing out loud.

"He was just learning to use his x-ray vision and he'd get this weird look on his face—like when he would go to reach for the telephone only to look right past it and find me dusting in the next room. I happened to catch him as it took place one day; he was trying to walk out the front door when his vision made him think it was wide open and he went smack into it. We were lucky he didn't just bust right through!"

The cell phone rang on Lois' desk just then at City Hall, interrupting her in the midst of her holiday memory, and she picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey Lois, it's Eddie!"

Eddie was an informant of hers from the _Planet_ and she barely tolerated him. He was short and gangly with tousled brown hair and big ears. He'd proven his usefulness over the years on several stories, he'd give her leads when she'd hit dead-ends, and in return she'd buy him enough take-out food to last a normal person a month. He was by far one of her sleaziest informants though, and her spirits dampened immediately upon hearing his name. "Oh hi, Eddie, listen, if you've got a story, you'd better get in touch with somebody else back at the _Planet_ because I'm working the Superman case right now…"

"Then you're in luck 'cause I have some news about that for ya."

Her jaw hit the floor as silence met her on the other end. "_Well_…!"

"Well what are you going to give me for it?"

"Listen, you Little Weasel, I am in NO MOOD to play games here! You better tell me what you know or next time I see you I'm going to snap your puny little head off your neck like I was breaking a toothpick!"

"Geez, Lane, get a grip, alright! I'll tell you what I know. So, does Marganic have any property out in Kentucky?"

"No, of course not, they're a marine based company; their offices, labs and warehouses are primarily based on the East or West coast."

"Thought not. Anyhow, I got a cousin working out there..."

"Doing what?"

"My cousin? He, uh…he works in an, um, an auto body shop…yeah…"

"Ok, so your cousin in the auto body shop, what does _he_ have to do with Marganic?"

"He doesn't. But the other day two tough guys come by his place of business looking to sell a truck for parts—wanted to get rid of it fast and cheap. So the guy my cousin works with buys it and my cousin starts taking the damn thing apart. Comes to see it's got a really cheap paint job on it, so he chips it away and finds it's a Marganic truck. Then he opens up the back to see the inside of the thing and finds a bench on either side, a potato sack, and some green dust on the floor."

Lois' eyes went wide as the realization hit her; this was the break they'd been looking for since November.

"Lois, you still there?" her informant asked.

"Where's the truck right now, Eddie?"

"Where? It's in my cousin's shop, why?"

"Eddie, I don't give a damn about the shop, where's the shop located?! Where's the truck and the shop?! Where Eddie, tell me **WHERE**?!?" her voice cracked in hysteria as she struggled to get the information she so desperately wanted.

"It's in Lexington, Kentucky, ok? Geez!" He waited for confirmation. "Lois? Lois…." But she'd already rushed out the room, dropping the phone on her desk in her haste. She darted down the hall to find Agent Woodrow or Lt. Henrickson and instead nearly knocked down Agent Chase.

"Whoa there! What's the rush?" he asked in a sugary sweet voice and with an anxious expression on his face.

Looking back on this moment later, Lois apprehended that had she not been so excited by the revelation of Clark's whereabouts she would have spoken to Agent Chase with much more restraint. As it was she was bursting at the seams, and hurriedly told him, "One of my old informants from the _Planet_ knows where they're holding Superman! It's in Kentucky! They're in Lexington, Kentucky!" she shouted as she ran off further down the hall.


	37. Chapter 37

_**Lexington Bunker**_**, Day 114.** The telephone rang on Lex Luthor's desk as he casually sat back in his chair watching the news anchor look thoroughly disgusted while he announced that the latest 'Superman Smackdown' had debuted on-line. He sat there, completely unmoved, chomping on the end of his unlit cigar. _It was brilliant of Finneran to suggest the sun lamps…sure it was risky, re-charging him like that, but the profit has all but negated the risk…_The phone rang several more times, interrupting his private victory.

"What?" he barked into the receiver when he finally deigned to answer it.

On the other end of the line, Special Agent Chase stood in a broom closet, speaking into his cell phone in a hushed whisper. "That Lane woman says she's got an informant that he knows where you are."

"And do they?" he asked suspiciously.

"They know it's near Lexington, Kentucky, Sir, but it will take them awhile to coordinate with authorities there and pinpoint your _exact_ location—at least, I think so…"

"Alright then, we'll get ready for the next transfer. Good work, Chase…you'll be rewarded handsomely for this." Luthor hung up the phone and lit his cigar…_after all, we do have a little time to kill…_

* * *

_**Lexington Bunker**_**, December 29, 2007.** The authorities rolled in on what looked like an abandoned piece of land on the outskirts of Lexington, Kentucky within 24 hours of receiving the tip from Lois' informant. They'd narrowed the search for the property by looking over bills of sale of commercial real estate from the last eight months, then zeroed in on areas resembling the Rordenville Bunker. The inconspicuous-looking chain link fence protecting a small shed confirmed their suspicions.

By the time the S.W.A.T. team cleared the area everyone present knew that Superman and his captors were long gone, leaving the usual trail of meaningless paperwork and Kryptonite dust behind.

Lois got the news later on that Saturday evening at home in Metropolis. She sat anxiously on the sofa as Jason watched a movie—she didn't dare get his or Martha's hopes up again after what happened last time—and informed Jason she was stepping out for a quick breath of fresh air before grabbing her coat and walking out the door. Letting herself out onto the roof and still clutching the phone tightly in her fist, Lois let loose an aggravated, blood-curdling scream.

* * *

_**Smallville,**_** December 31, 2007 / January 1, 2008.** Ben had been spending as much free time as he could with Martha once she'd returned from Metropolis to search for Clark. He shook his head to himself as he struggled to open the champagne while Martha waited in her living room…_It's bad enough that he takes off for five years traveling the globe, but at least then Martha knew where he was… then he returns home only to go missing a year later? Anyone can see that this is breaking her heart... _He returned to the living room and the roaring fire with champagne flutes in hand, just as the clock on the mantelpiece began it's midnight chime.

"Happy New Year, Martha," he said in an overly cheerful tone, trying to bolster her mood. He held the flute out to her.

She shook the far off look from her face. "What? Oh…" she accepted the glass. "Thank you." He settled down on the sofa beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. It was then that he caught sight of the photo she had up on her mantle; an image of Clark, Lois and Jason with the Metropolis Meteor's mascot at a ballgame, taken last summer before he disappeared.

"They're going to find him you know."

"Hmm? Yes, yes I know; they came close this last time but I know they'll find him in the end…" she said, not fully realizing what she was saying.

"Came close? Martha, did the Metropolis Police call you? What aren't you telling me?" he asked, looking straight at her with a face full of concern.

Lois had called her two days before and informed her that the FBI and MPD had found another bunker in Kentucky, but that just like before they were already gone. Of course, Ben didn't know any of this, and it took a moment for Martha to realize exactly what she'd said.

"Oh! No…well, yes. Sort of…" she wracked her brain for a possible white lie._'No Ben, my son is Superman, so you know just about as much as I do with regards to where he is'…that won't do, now think, Martha, think!_ "Well, you see, Ben, they had a man in custody in Metropolis who was a bit…_confused_…and he looked like Clark, but after they called me we learned that it wasn't him."

"Are you sure? I mean, how can you be sure without seeing him for yourself? After all, you said he was a confused…maybe it really was him?"

_Oh how I wish, how I really truly wish…_ "No Ben, it wasn't him. This young man had a birthmark on his shoulder. Clark doesn't have one," she bit her lower lip as she finished speaking, worrying that he would sense the lie. _Martha Susana Clark Kent, you are a terrible liar…and you know what they say happens to liars…_

Ben sat subdued in his spot on the sofa; he wanted so badly to help her but knew that Martha would never be at ease until her son was home again. So instead he took his arm off her shoulder, placed her hand in his, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She smiled at him at this simple gesture, and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Happy New Year to you too, Ben."

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** January 2, 2008. **The phone by Lois' bed rang ten minutes before her alarm was set to wake her up. _This does not bode well for me having a productive day,_ she thought as she rolled over to pick it up. Immediately she regretted her selfish way of thinking, knowing that all day every day was torture for Clark while he was in Luthor and Finneran's hands, and there she was worried about having a crappy day. She swiftly grabbed up the phone, wondering if it was Lt. Henrickson or Agent Woodrow calling with new news.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Lois? It's Agent Woodrow."

"Clarissa? What's wrong, is everything alright?"

The Special Agent winced slightly on the other end of the line. She was only two or three years older than Lois, but she'd been with the Bureau long enough to maintain a few codes of conduct when working a case. Chief among them was 'Do not become attached to friends and family members of victims'—and Lois Lane had been trying to break through that barrier Clarissa had erected ever since Day One.

She let the informality slide…this time. What she had to say was too important. "Can you meet me and Lt. Henrickson at the Soleil Café around 8:30 this morning, before heading into headquarters? It's a couple of blocks East of City Hall…"

"I know where it is, but why do we need to meet there? Is something wrong?"

Again Agent Woodrow held back before replying. "There's something important I'd like to discuss privately with the both of you. Will you please come?"

"Sure, I'll be there as soon as I drop Jason off at school."

"Thanks, we'll be waiting for you." Agent Woodrow hung up the phone, hoping she was doing the right thing.

* * *

Lois was the last to arrive at the coffee shop as a slight snowfall came down outside. They made an interesting trio sitting there at a corner table, the two young women with their cappuccinos and the grizzled middle-aged man with a white mug of strong black brew. Lt. Henrickson was the first to break the tense silence.

"So are you going to tell us what this covert meeting is all about or are we just going to sit and stare at one another?"

She sighed as she looked over her cup at the intent gazes of the two people opposite her. _There's no going back now…_"I think there's a leak in the department."

Much to her surprise, Al was the only one stunned by the news, while Lois sat in thought with a scowl on her face. She pushed on. "The first time we missed Finneran and Luthor in Rordenville it was only by an hour or so, and that can be explained away by any number of reasons: they had planned to move on all along, we were too slow or sloppy and they got lucky, or they had surveillance on us and saw we were about to swoop in on them and bolted out of there. Whatever the reason was why we missed them at that first bunker, it doesn't matter, we just did.

"But Lexington was different. We enforced stricter security precautions on our end to make sure we weren't being monitored, and our Kentucky affiliates took time and care to study the area before moving in, yet Luthor and Finneran still managed to get away from us. How? I've gone over the entry in Lexington time and time again and the only explanation I can come up with is that they were tipped off."

"But who would do that?!" Henrickson asked anxiously. "You've seen the way people have been busting their chops these last four months, not one of them would sell Superman out like that, not for love or money!"

Lois spoke out in an unusually quiet voice. "Agent Chase might." She eyed Agent Woodrow to gauge her reaction.

Now it was Woodrow's turn to scowl. "Look, I know you don't like the guy, but that doesn't mean he's working with the likes of Finneran and Luthor. Not to mention you didn't see him that day in the Mayor's office when he met Superman face-to-face—he practically worships the guy, so why would he want to bring further harm to him?"

"Hey now, this has nothing to do with my personal dislike for him…call it my reporter's intuition. Clark and I knew we were onto something when we met with Finneran about the Kryptonite smuggling and Chase got very curt with us; now I know I'm onto something when I say that he's somehow involved. Not to mention that he's always acted oddly around me…"

"Well in that case than all the Techs in the Computer Lab are in on it too…" Al added with a sarcastic chuckle.

"No seriously, hear me out! Back before Christmas I caught him shredding some documents, and when I called him out on it he brushed me off and…" she stopped to recall his other odd behavior toward her when the incident in the hallway made it's way to the surface. "Oh my God…"

Agent Woodrow perked up at the look of shock on Lois' face. "What is it?"

"It's all my fault…" her lower lip began to tremble.

Al prodded her. "What's all your fault?"

"Our not finding him in Lexington, it's all my fault…"

"Lois, it's not your fault; Hell it was your tip that led us to Kentucky in the first place!"

"But I told Agent Chase first. He…I…I was running down the hallway, trying to find you," she nodded in Agent Woodrow's direction, "When I plowed right into him. I wasn't even thinking when he asked why I was in such a rush…I was so keyed up I just blurted it out right there. He was the first person I told."

Much as it gnawed at her insides Agent Woodrow had to admit to herself that Lois was building a pretty damn good case against Agent Chase. However, she wasn't ready to turn on her partner with guns blazing just yet.

"What we need is proof," she said, addressing both Al and Lois. "What you've got right now is circumstantial. We'll keep an eye on him for the time being; just make sure not to arouse his suspicion. If he is involved then we'll confront him, but we don't make a move until that time, am I clear?"

Lois put down her coffee cup and nodded in silent agreement before adding, "You know who you sounded like just now?"

"Who?"

"My Editor-in-Chief, Perry White. Maybe you went into the wrong profession," she said, employing her trademark snark.

Clarissa smirked. "Personally, I think I can handle a .38 better than 38-type font any day."


	38. Chapter 38

_**Smallville,**_** January 2, 2008. **A weathered hand reached over to the telephone on the wall and quickly lifted it off it's jack. "Hello?"

"Martha? It's Lois."

Her face immediately grew full of concern. "Do you have any news?"

"No, not exactly…more like a complication. I thought I should tell you just in case."

She braced herself for the worst. "Tell me what, Dear?"

Lois paused on the other end of the line before continuing. "Agent Woodrow thinks that there is a leak in the department, someone who is working for Luthor and Finneran, and that's why we haven't been able to locate Clark yet."

"But that can't be," Martha said, "Everyone has been working so hard to try and find him, they don't want to see him harmed anymore than we do. Why would someone try to undermine all that work?"

"Well…" Lois stopped talking and Martha heard Jason moving around in the background. Both mothers waited until the child was out of the room before Lois explained how she thought Special Agent Chase was involved.

The older woman bit the back of her hand as she composed her thoughts. When Lois finished talking, she added, "I will admit that it _does_ sound like you're onto something, but Agent Woodrow is right, you need more proof."

"I know, and I'm working to that end, but it hasn't been easy. If I'm right and Chase is involved, than it's got to be because of the money. And my contact at the Bank of Metropolis left his post a couple of months ago so I don't have anyone on the inside to help me follow the trail. Between ferreting out the traitor and searching for Clark…Martha, I'm almost at my wit's end here!"

The older woman smiled to herself before replying, "Honey, I think I know someone who can help you…"

* * *

"**???", Day 122.** Clark slouched in the center of the room surrounded by four large sunlamps, and he waited impatiently for his captors to exit so that they would turn them on. The light and the heat were overwhelming to the hired men, but to him the glow they cast was invigorating; it was in these few moments of sunlight and solitude that Clark's harsh reality temporarily melted away.

One of the men turned around before closing the door and caught a glimpse of the Man of Steel pulling off his dirty white cotton t-shirt, exposing the toned but heavily bruised physique underneath; the inadequate food rations he'd endured over the last few months having done little to change the make-up of his musculature. With the simple flick of a switch Clark was bathed in light and he stood in the center of the room, arms outstretched, soaking it all in.

He let a sad smile creep to his lips in these moments; the power generated from the sun lamps was nothing compared to the actual yellow sun, but it did much to comfort him. Finneran was right when he referred to Superman as being very much like a battery, and his time in the light reminded him in the midst of his despair that he hadn't always been so weak and powerless. But the smile quickly faded as he realized just what these sessions preceded, and his expression was replaced with one of contempt at what was to come next.

The lamps were turned off, revealing less purple skin on Superman's body where the bruises had once been their deepest, but Clark noted that even the artificial power of a yellow sun was doing less for him than before. He didn't have time to dwell on that thought, however, as he hastily put his shirt back on and Luthor and Finneran's hired thugs re-entered to take him away. Clark fought them off like he always did, and he managed to get the upper hand of one of the less-experienced men before being subdued and carted out of the room, crying out against the injustice of it all.

* * *

_**Metropolis Airport, **_**January 5, 2008. **Chloe waded through the hordes of other passengers who were dragging their luggage away from the turn stile and she strove to find a familiar face.

"Lois!" she called out as soon as she saw the young woman. They met in the middle of the crowd and shook each other's hands.

"Chloe! Thanks so much for coming on such short notice."

She leaned into the City woman so that only she could hear. "I'm only sorry I couldn't get out here sooner, but the higher-ups at the _Tribune_ wouldn't take 'I have to go help search for my missing superhero friend' as an excuse for running out of town." Then a dark look stole over the Kansas woman's features and she lowered her voice still further. "You know that I would do anything to help Clark, and have felt pretty damn helpless this whole time, so you really don't need to thank me. I've tried running my own investigation, backtracking the internet videos that Luthor's been broadcasting, but the bastard hired someone cleverer than me to cover his tracks…and that's saying a lot."

Lois nodded, recognizing where the woman was coming from as her own frustration over the past several months' events mounted in her chest. For her guests' sake she tried to remain upbeat and positive, knowing how quickly those negative thoughts and moods could suck you in and stall the investigation. "It's funny, I never would've guessed during our meeting last May that you were so handy with computers."

"Yeah, well, it's a talent of mine that used to get me into quite a lot of trouble back in the day, so I tend to stay off the radar as much as possible now."

Lois arched an eyebrow at her, hoping to hear more but not wanting to seem too pushy. She felt that under a different set of circumstances she and Chloe could become close friends; right now, however, they united their efforts in the common goal of finding Clark. Lois led Chloe outside and hailed a cab.

"So, where are we headed?" she asked curiously.

"To my apartment. I figured it would be better to work from there instead of at City Hall, given…"

"…given that you suspect a corrupt member of the FBI may be working among you? Yeah, I'd say that working from your apartment sounds like a good idea," she replied as she stepped into the cab. Lois smiled at Chloe's biting sarcasm…_oh yeah, given the right set of circumstances we could __**definitely**__ become friends._

The woman from Smallville quickly set-up shop and wasted no time once they got back to Lois' apartment, immediately taking over the dining room with all of her equipment. The reporter recognized the laptop, but everything else spread out along the table looked like it came straight out of a spy film.

"So, did you order this set from the 'Mission: Impossible' catalogue or was 'Spy Kids' where you got the hardware from?"

"Ha ha ha. Laugh if you want to, Lois, but this is some of the best hacking equipment money can buy. Now, do you want to start with the accounts he has here in Metropolis and work our way out from there, or vice versa?"

Lois responded from the kitchen where she'd gone to get them some sodas. "I think that's the best bet. I doubt he'd keep his ill-gotten gains in Metropolis, but then again people have done stupider things and maybe he figures we'd never look closely at him, so we should start taking his financial life apart from the inside out."

"Agreed."

Chloe began pecking away at her keyboard and the two spent several hours poring over all relevant and irrelevant financial documents that she could come up with. Lois excused herself around 2 pm to go pick up Jason from a play-date with Danny and returned to the apartment a little after three with a brown-haired little boy in tow. At the sound of their return Chloe got up to introduce herself to Lois' son.

She bent down to the child's height and waited for him to get his jacket off before he turned to face her. "Hello Jason, I'm…OH!" his blue eyes connected with her green ones and she knew immediately that it was Clark's son. _Lois'… and Clark's …Oh. My. Goodness._

The boy giggled at her shock. "That's a funny name," he said, giving her a crooked grin. _Ok, now there's no doubt about it—that is definitely Clark's grin._ Chloe looked up into Lois' face, the questions written plainly across her features; the other woman simply nodded yes in response.

Chloe turned back to Jason and said, "Silly! OH isn't my name! My name's Chloe Sullivan, and I'm a friend of your Dad's from Smallville. I've come out here to help your Mom with something."

Now it was Jason's turn to be confused, and he looked up to his Mother for guidance. _Mr. Clark being my Daddy is s'posed to be a secret! How does she know? What do I do?_

"It's ok, Jason," Lois said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Chloe knew your father growing up and she knows his secret. In fact, she knew it before you or I did."

Chloe chuckled, taking Jason's little hand in hers, and said more to herself, "Yep, that's my claim to fame; I knew Superman before Superman did." She stuck her tongue out at Jason and winked at him. He stuck his tongue back out at her and it cemented their friendship.

"Hey Buddy, why don't you go play in your room for a little while before starting your homework so Chloe and I can get some work done to find Daddy, ok?"

Jason didn't need to be told twice, and he bolted off down the hallway at super-speed toward his room.

Chloe stood up and looked at the reporter with a newfound respect and a countenance full of bewilderment. "Lois, I didn't…I had no…I knew you had a child…but Clark? Wow…"

"Yep, that pretty much sums it up. We had a relationship before he left for Krypton, of which I have no memory of, and Jason came along nine months later. I only discovered his Kryptonian heritage about a year and a half ago when Luthor held us hostage on that godforsaken yacht where he set about creating New Krypton."

"But he looks so much like him!" Chloe blurted out, staring down the hallway where Jason had just been.

"I know, which made me feel like even more of a fool when I finally discovered Clark's secret. You see it in their mannerisms…"

"You see it in their eyes." Both women looked at one another and swallowed down their sadness, missing the man who was being held captive for far too long.

Lois was the first to break the stillness. "How about we get back to work, shall we? There's got to be something in here, I just know Chase is dirty…Jason will be able to keep himself amused until dinnertime, so we should see what we can do…"

The two women halted their efforts long enough to partake of some take-out from the local Thai place down the street then soon dove back into their work. It became readily apparent to the two women that Agent Chase _was_ involved with something, but whether or not that something was linked to Superman's continued imprisonment they couldn't be sure. They hit the hay very late in the evening, determined to get an early start with fresh eyes and see if they couldn't crack the case the following morning.

* * *

**"???", Day 124. **He sat on the thin mattress of his cell, staring blankly at the Kryptonite-infused walls. One of the thugs walked by, peeling back the small latch cut into the door so that he could properly view the prisoner, only to find him locked in his mind-numbing gaze with the wall. Superman didn't even make a move at the small amount of artificial light that entered the room. The man outside walked away.

His trance wasn't as mind-numbing as it had appeared; he was busy thinking of Jason, the little boy who was growing up without him, only now he knew what was missing. Every moment that Clark had ever spent with his son, even before he knew the child was his, flitted through his mind like a silent movie on repeat. That's because he couldn't bear to recall the boy's infectious laughter, or hear him utter the name 'Daddy', without breaking down into tears—and he wouldn't dare give Luthor the satisfaction.

Clark knew that when Luthor was finished with him the man wouldn't be so quick as to give up his trophy, more likely than not stuffing the dead Man of Steel and mounting him on his wall like a prized shot. There'd be no chance for him to ever receive a proper burial, as Superman or as Clark Kent, yet he knew his life would not go un-memorialized by the people he most cared about in this world. He pictured Jason wearing a little black suit, standing next to Lois and Martha over an empty grave in the Smallville Cemetery. He imagined the extent of their collective sorrow, then tried to envision what their lives would be like in the future, without him, as they tried to partake of society without ever really getting over their grief.

He saw his Mother die old and alone, without him there to comfort or help her...or bury her.

He saw Lois grow cold and cynical, pouring herself into her work to numb the pain, her articles nothing but a diatribe against the world.

He saw Jason become a man, an angry and bitter young man, stalking after Luthor to avenge his death, only to become another one of the madman's victim.

These images and more rent his heart into a million pieces, but they also forced him to keep breathing so that the future he imagined would never come to pass. _I have to live...I have to save them, I have to protect them...I have to live so I can tell them how much I love them..._

The worry and pain he knew he must be causing them hurt almost as much as the incessant throbbing he felt from the Kryptonite walls.


	39. Chapter 39

_**FBI/MPD War Room, Metropolis Headquarters**_**, January 4, 2008.** Spencer Chase did not feel well. In fact, he hadn't been feeling well for the last couple of days. But it wasn't a physical ailment that plagued him, it was a sense of foreboding that left him extremely paranoid. Everywhere he went in City Hall he felt as if someone were watching him. He'd caught his partner, Clarissa Woodrow, doing it once; but when he called her on it she just stepped forward and flicked off the piece of lint on his shoulder she alleged had caught her eye.

Lt. Henrickson was another story. Agent Chase _knew_ the older man was watching him, and it wasn't the paranoia overwhelming him either. He'd caught Henrickson slinking along in the hallway a few yards behind him for the last few days, not to mention the way he would absently look over Chase's shoulder at whatever paperwork he happened to be holding. For his part, Al did his best to keep his distance while still keeping a weary eye on the suspected corrupt Agent; even so, the latter man could feel the heat.

That afternoon Spencer informed his partner that he was going to take a walk around the block to a nearby hot dog vendor and enjoy a quiet lunch in the park. He was supposed to have been gone for half an hour, and nobody realized that he hadn't returned until a rookie officer with the MPD asked Agent Woodrow if she'd seen him and what she wanted him to do with some files. Her eyes narrowed into little slits as her colleague's actions cast further suspicion on him. She walked over to his desk and saw that his cell phone and keys were still there, and she went back to her own work assuming everything was alright.

It wasn't until several hours later that his disappearance was _truly_ registered, and by that time he was on a private flight to a Southeast Asian isle, a duffel bag of cash in tow.

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** January 7, 2008. **Lois awoke first and quietly crept out of her bedroom along the hallway to the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on. The scent of the brew reached Chloe's nose as she lay dozing on the pull-out couch and it quickly roused her out of her slumber, while Lois woke Jason up and got him ready for school. An hour and a half later, all three were showered, refreshed and/or settled at school, and the two women went back to work.

Chloe worked on her own in the dining room for a while as Lois followed up on a few leads she had brought home with her from City Hall in the living room. The Smallville Editor's green eyes darted up from her screen as she caught snatches of the conversation from the other room.

"No I will not be put on hold," Lois said through clenched teeth as she paced back and forth across the doorway. A few moments silence followed. "And_I_ already told _you_, I'm working with the joint Task Force at Metropolis City Hall to try and find Superman!" More silence. "Listen you, you've been stonewalling me for three days now…No, I don't have a badge, I have a press pass…Who do I work for? I work for the _Daily Planet_, that's who, and so help me if you or your boss don't start giving me some answers then I'm going to implicate you PERSONALLY in one of the biggest CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY, OR MY NAME ISN'T **LOIS LANE!!!**"

Lois drew all 5'7" of herself up and stood raging like an angry bull, framed in the doorway and ready to charge. Chloe silently thanked herself for not wearing red, and sat as unobtrusively as possible waiting to hear the outcome.

"Yes, I really am Lois Lane!" she said into the receiver exasperatedly. The person on the other end must have said something remotely to her liking, for she quickly replied, "Thank you, it's about damn time!" And with that she moved out of the doorway and carried on the conversation in a normal tone of voice.

Chloe looked back at her screen to see a blinking notice pop up on her window._That's never good…_she thought as she perused the message. A few more clicks brought open other windows and Chloe began to see a recurring pattern…"LOIS!" The woman in question jerked her head into view in the doorway and gave her a wild-eyed look. "You better come take a look at this!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Buchanan, but I'm going to have to call you back," she said hanging up the line before he had a chance to respond. "What's wrong? What'd you find?"

"I put a trace on Spencer Chase's known accounts here in Metropolis when I first got here, just so we could register any activity and maybe backtrack it to the source if your hunch was right. But now that the banks have been open for awhile their transactions from over the weekend are finally being processed and…"

"And what?"

"His money…it's all gone."

"What do you mean it's GONE?!?"

"I mean the accounts have a balance of zero. All of them. Not only that, he had withdrawals transferred in through the Metropolis accounts from the encrypted ones offshore that I told you about on Saturday…remember, the ones I said would take several days to crack? He had the money wired here, and I'm going to hazard a guess that those accounts are now closed too."

Lois seated herself on a chair next to Chloe, a slumped and defeated figure that stood in stark contrast to the bold reporter from a few moments ago.

"How much?"

Chloe's voice was barely audible. "It looks like $2-3 million…so far…"

"BLOOD MONEY!" she screamed wildly, slamming her fist into the table so hard Chloe thought the wood would crack. Lois sat there, breathing heavily and not moving for several moments, her eyes flitting back and forth across the table in thought. Chloe sat looking equally distraught, rendering her voice mute while her mind screamed. _This man hindered the investigation for HOW MANY MONTHS?!?! And all for the sake of GREED! This is Clark's life at stake here!!!!_

Lois was the first to break the silence. "How long will it take for you to pack all this stuff up?"

Chloe jerked her head toward her and replied, "10, 15 minutes tops. Why?"

"Because we're going to City Hall."

* * *

_**FBI/MPD War Room, Metropolis Headquarters,**_** January 7, 2008.** Lois stormed into the War Room with Chloe hot on her heels, and happened upon Agent Woodrow with her back to her, standing shoulder to shoulder with several other colleagues from the Bureau who were all talking animatedly.

"Excuse me," Lois said, pointedly jabbing a finger into the other woman's shoulder. "May we have a word with you? _Privately?_" Agent Woodrow regarded the blond woman with the bulky bags suspiciously, before leading them towards what appeared to be an unoccupied conference room. Lt. Henrickson had been taking an early lunch in there, and after noticing the looks between those two, he made as if to get up and leave.

"No Al," Lois said authoritatively. The man privately shuddered at the tone she took with him; it reminded him too much of his ex-wife. "You're going to want to stay and hear all this.

"Everyone, this is Chloe Sullivan. Chloe, this is Lt. Henrickson and Special Agent Woodrow, Agent Chase's _partner_," she said, spitting the connection out like venom. "Chloe is a friend of Clark Kent's, my missing partner from the _Planet_, and I invited her to help us out because of her…unique talents." A grin worthy of a Cheshire cat crossed her face as she surreptitiously described Chloe's abilities. "I think you'll all see why you're here in a moment. Are you ready, Chloe?"

"Almost…" she replied, punching a few codes into her computer and pulling up different screens. She picked up the narrative where Lois left off. "I'm, um…I guess you could say I'm rather _deft_ at manipulating computer programs…"

Al interrupted, a piece of lettuce from his sandwich hanging halfway out of his mouth. "You sayin' you're a hacker?"

A blush and a bashful smile rose to Chloe's cheeks. "Yes and no. I have the skill, but I'm not as malicious as your run-of-the mill 'hacker'." She turned to face the FBI Agent. "Agent Woodrow, when you relayed your fear that there was a leak in the Task Force, Lois got in touch with me to help ferret that person out. And before you ask, yes we were following up on Lois' hunch."

Another sharp look passed between reporter and Bureau Agent before Chloe spoke again. "We tagged his accounts here in Metropolis and found a few things out of the ordinary, but nothing to make anyone overtly suspicious at first glance. Late yesterday we uncovered some offshore accounts, but knowing that those take days for even the best hacker to get into, we went to bed so we could work on it fresh in the morning.

"Well this morning, before I could even get started on unlocking the virtual doors of Chase's offshore accounts, we got hits on his Metropolis ones. He emptied them all out."

Lt. Henrickson stopped chewing and Agent Woodrow raised an eyebrow questioningly. "So? That doesn't prove anything…maybe the guy wanted to switch banks," Agent Woodrow replied in a less-than confident tone. Al gave her a pointed look but held his tongue.

"Ok, but why would he also empty out his off-shore accounts too? And, no offense to you and the work that you do, Special Agent, but do you make enough to sock away $2-3 million dollars?" The shocked and hurt look that crossed her face just then proved Chloe's point. "I rest my case."

Lois stood back, arms folded across her chest and a triumphant smile on her face. As much as it pained her to see how devastated Agent Woodrow was by the news, she found the thrill of victory to be much more satisfying.

Al spoke up after he swallowed what was in his mouth. "This isn't entirely new news though."

The smug smile on Lois' face quickly vanished. "It isn't?"

Clarissa looked up from the table with a worn and stupefied expression. "No…he disappeared Friday. Just took off for lunch and never came back. We'd been trying to contact him all weekend when you came in…" she slunk into a chair, her elbows resting on the table and propping up her forehead. "I just…I can't believe…I mean…it was SPENCER for crying out loud! He was my mentor! And he was so patriotic, so dedicated to the Task Force!"

Lois softened her voice and put a hand reassuringly on the other woman's shoulder. "Unfortunately, it would appear that even a couple million will buy off the most patriotic person in this day and age." They all sat silently in the room for several moments before Chloe spoke up.

"Excuse me? Um, not to, um, downplay your grief or anything, but what's our next move?"

Al piped up. "Well first things first, if he was in contact with either Finneran or Luthor than there's got to be a phone record of it somewhere, so I say we get on the horn and subpoena his phone records," he got up to follow through on that, hastily muttering "Excuse me, Ladies," before darting out of the room.

"Ok, but what about Special Agent Chase?"

Clarissa raised her head and stared straight at Chloe with red-rimmed eyes. "We already had people practically busting down his door earlier today when we couldn't get a hold of him. I doubt he would have stuck around Metropolis for very long. I'd like to go after him and give the bastard a piece of my mind, but right now we need to capitalize on this and find Superman. If Henrickson's right and Chase does have a phone record of the calls made to Luthor and Finneran, then we may be able to gain the upper hand of the situation here and catch them before they get a chance to dodge us."

"How so?" Lois asked with great curiosity.

"Well…mind you, I'm speculating here. Spencer _was_ a good man at one point in time, and I worked with him closely, but I _know_ he doesn't have a backbone when it comes to the underhanded stuff. It sounds like it was the money that turned him, and when he thought we were onto him he probably just grabbed it and ran."

A light bulb went off in Chloe's head. "You're thinking he left without informing Luthor and Finneran."

"Exactly."

* * *

"**???", Day 140**. Clark's body was still reeling from the last video-taped beating when he heard the voices coming down the hall in his direction. He braced himself up against the corner of the room.

The lock clanged as the key was inserted and the door swung back. Three men filed into the room, staggering as they went, and Clark could smell the alcohol on them. One man, the large, muscular Hispanic one, closed the door behind him.

"Hey Ralphie?" he called out to the African-American man closest to Clark. "You think he's scared?"

The man looked from Superman to his comrades. "I don't know, Dougie. What do you think, Jer?"

The wiry white man in the corner cracked his knuckles, responding "Oh yeah, he's scared. He knows he's gonna get the shit kicked out of him."

By all outward appearances Superman stayed stoic; only his breathing grew ragged as he stood against the Kryptonite walls. However, internally Clark's heart was racing and his eyes sought an escape from the blows; his body wouldn't hold out long in his current surroundings, and he had no idea how far these men would go when they weren't being supervised by Luthor or Finneran. He'd never felt such fear for his safety in all his life and his knees trembled…_I have to stay strong…I have to live for Lois and Jason and Mom…I have to stay strong_…

Ralph deftly brought back his fist, looking to aim a punch squarely at the Man of Steel's chin. Fortunately, Clark had the presence of mind to duck out of the way before the blow connected and the black man's fist pounded the wall, the sound of crunching bone echoing throughout the room.

"YOU BROKE MY HAND! YOU FUCKING BROKE MY HAND!!!" he shouted, the steam practically billowing out his ears as he clasped the useless appendage in his lone good one. Doug and Jerry let into Superman then, grabbing him roughly by the arms while Jerry kneed him once in the side for good measure. Clark struggled for breath.

"YOU FUCKING ALIEN BASTARD!!!" Ralph yelled as he lunged at him again. Some minutes later the right side of Clark's face felt as if it had been put through a meat grinder as the man used his left hand to exact revenge. Doug and Jerry soon let go and Clark collapsed in a heap on the floor, trying to protect himself as best he could without success.

Superman couldn't stop himself from screaming as the fiery throbbing tore through his core. "**AAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!**" _Oh God just make it stop, please, just make it stop..._

"Shut up, NOW!" Jerry demanded as the Man of Steal squirmed beneath their boots. Doug kicked him in the side as Clark lay prone on his back, unable to move and struggling to breathe; his mind and body were beginning to shut down as they reached a level of pain he didn't even think was possible. The proximity of the Kryptonite and the severity of the blows drained the last of his super-humanly energy.

His breathing was coming in in very labored gasps now. "I'm. Still. Superman." He passed out.

Luthor and Finneran had been coming down the hallway with Bruce at their heels when they saw the key in the prisoner's cell door and heard the commotion from inside. The two older men scrambled to see that their captive was still secure in his bonds to find him barely alive as the three drunken men pummeled his limp form mercilessly.

"ENOUGH!" Lex rasped out, startling the men in the midst of their deadly game. "YOU DAMN SONS OF BITCHES, GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM! WHAT THE FUCK DID WE TELL YOU ABOUT MESSING WITH THE PRISONER?!! NICK!" he turned to his partner who stood frozen at his side, "Get his other arm, we've GOT to get him to the sun room…he is not dying today!!!" Luthor glared at the inebriated men, daring them to contradict him. "BRUCE!"

The man in black stepped forward at his Boss' command. "Deal with them." The four thugs were left alone in the room as Finneran and Luthor hurriedly dragged Superman's unmoving form down the hall.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N:** I can't take full credit for the fight scene I'm describing here; I was inspired by a scene in a French film entitled "Brotherhood of the Wolf". It is an amazing film; intelligent, romantic and action-packed. I highly recommend watching it if you have the time.

But I digress. On with the story…

* * *

"**???", Day 159.** Clark knew it had been some time since his last 'public' bout—the recovery from his private beating with Luthor's goons having been somewhat extensive—when the guards came around to drag him out of his cell. Once Superman was 'sufficiently recharged' they brought him struggling under their grip into the viewing room and threw him into the ring where two women were poised and waiting. The Man of Steel was tense and ready for a fight; he knew what they expected of their alien prisoner, and he only complied because he carried a very dim hope of surviving and building a life with Lois and Jason at the end of his ordeal. 

But time and pain had changed him, had changed him from the mild-mannered reporter and stoic hero that people had known him to be, into a sullen, angry and degraded human being. _Sub-human_, he thought,_ if such a thing is even possible for someone like me_. _I keep going for Lois, but she may not want to be with me at all once this is over. She may want to take Jason and run as far the hell away from me as she possibly can. I'm no good to anyone anymore..._

It was the moments in-between the torture and the beatings—the moments when he wasn't thinking of Lois or Jason or his Mother and worrying about their well-being in the midst of his absence—that his mind dwelt on other, more morbid thoughts, thoughts that never would have crossed his mind in his old life; murder, revenge, wide-spread destruction. In his mind he'd planned a myriad number of ways to end Lex Luthor's very existence, breaking his long-held vow to never take a human life when his very physiology made it as easy for him as snapping a chicken bone—but every time he gazed upon the madman there was nothing but malice and contempt in his heat vision-less eyes. These Zod-like thoughts were beginning to override every other rational notion in his head.

The persistent pain was pushing Clark to the edge of reason, and the brink of madness.

Lex Luthor had taken greater notice of his prisoner's demeanor as of late, observing how much more callous the extra-terrestrial had become since the first days of his imprisonment, and this pleased him to no end. And now, as Clark stood in the middle of the boxing ring staring at his new opponents, Lex studied his features with even greater interest.

"You were expecting a man, Superman? Or perhaps more of that little green souvenir from home? Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Valentine and Marguerite will have to do…" Luthor's gaze broke from Superman to the two women behind him. "Such delicate names for such_vicious_ women," he said with an evil smile as the pair grinned back at him.

In spite of the situation, Clark knew he did not have it in him to hit a woman…_or women, as the case may be, _he thought dolefully. He looked over his opponents as they began circling him, waiting for permission to strike. They were both tall, almost 6 feet by his guess, and they had long red hair reaching all the way down their backs tied into low ponytails. Their matching black pants and sports bras highlighted their musculature, giving Clark a glimpse of just_ what exactly_ he was about to be forced up against. As best he could he maintained a defensive stance.

Without warning the woman in front of him let loose a wild cry and rose her leg high off the ground to kick him; he was strong and agile enough to react quickly and block her. She turned to regain her balance while her sister, who stood behind him, attempted a similar move and caught him in his left shoulder. He winced from the blow and turned to face her. She didn't hesitate and another kick connected with his abdomen.

Clark stumbled back against the ropes as the air rushed out of him. He could feel Luthor's eyes boring into him from behind, taking a perverse pleasure from the spectacle before him. Straightening up once more he saw the first sister at the opposite corner of the ring. She took a running start before jumping into the air, flying toward him with her left leg bent and her right leg extended straight as a rod, before connecting with his chin. His head snapped to the side at the blow; he spit the blood out of his mouth and turned to glare at the two of them with steely and unfeeling blue eyes.

They paced before him, their paths criss-crossing one another in eerie cat-like precision as they studied him to determine their next move. He took a step forward away from the ropes and straightened up to his full 6'4" frame. The woman on his left made a swift turn on her foot and aimed a sidekick at his torso; a blow which he easily deflected while the sister on his right moved forward and landed a fist on his New Krypton wound, made more susceptible to pain given the constant Kryptonite exposure.

"AHHHHHHH!" his deep baritone scream echoed throughout the room as he collapsed to one knee. Forcing the hair off his face with his free hand he glared at the two women, sucked in his breath, and made to stand up straight once more.

They taunted him in this manner for what felt to Clark like an age. Every blow they brought down on his head was deflected by him as best he could manage and he never once laid a hand upon them. He didn't think he could last much longer when he caught Finneran entering the room out of the corner of his eye and hastily heading to Luthor. The young businessman animatedly whispered into the ear of the bald mastermind.

When he pulled back, Luthor called out, "Enough! Marguerite, Valentine, my Darlings, thank you for your services…" he stood up and offered a hand to each as they made their way daintily out of the ring. "If you would be so kind as to wait outside, I will be with you shortly." They nodded in response and made their way to the door. Clark slumped over at the edge of the ring, panting and wiping the blood from his face on his shirt.

* * *

_**FBI/MPD Computer Crime Lab, City Hall Headquarters, **_**February 11, 2008. **The two Techs stared at the computer screen as the feed from the live scene cut out. They had put a trace on the signal, picking up on locations ranging from Gotham City to Timbuktu, but they both knew that that particular effort was fruitless. As difficult as it was to watch, the two men strained themselves to keep their eyes glued to the screen in hopes of finding _something, anything _to help get him out of there; however, the scene they had just witnessed was wholly unexpected. 

Eric was the first to find his voice, "Lieutenant! Lieutenant! I think we got something you're gonna wanna see here!!!"

"Fialkowski, I swear, if this is another 'I think I heard a mating call of a bird indigenous to South America' then I am going to have to knock your block off!"

The man in question froze at the threat, while his partner seated next to him finally piped up. "No, Sir, this isn't, and you're definitely going to want to take a look at this…" he rewound the footage and waited to gauge the older man's reaction.

* * *

"**???", Day 159.** Clark could only make out portions of what was being said ringside, as his breath was coming in in sharp, painful gasps. No one made a move to drag him out of the ring, as if his presence there were entirely forgotten. 

Luthor was standing up facing Finneran and getting very angry with him. "What do you…inside…GONE!?!...how long?!"

Finneran replied in an equally loud voice, "I don't KNOW! I told you…RISKY!...couldn't be TRUSTED!...don't know…they know…SCREWED!"

Luthor turned to him and spoke in a quiet voice, one that Clark couldn't quite make out. The younger man threw his arms up in disgust, obviously agitated by whatever he'd heard. "DON'T PANIC?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN, DON'T PANIC?!?!" he screamed, flecks of spittle landing on Luthor's face. "THEY COULD BE ON THEIR WAY RIGHT NOW, SO I AM GOING TO FUCKING PANIC IF I WANT TO!!!"

Luthor's next words were spoken very clearly. "Well if that's how you feel, I suppose I shall just have to tie up some loose ends…" he pulled the gun on Finneran so suddenly that Clark only barely registered the weapon's presence at all.

Nick stumbled back as the shot impacted with his abdomen. He felt as if he were moving in slow motion; slouching over slightly, his hands groped at the sticky spot on his shirt where the blood was now gushing out of him. He looked up and caught Lex Luthor's sneering face staring at him, the gun still cocked and in his right hand.

"Lex…why…?" his eyes lolled up into his head as he collapsed on the floor.

"Because, Nick, I work _**best**_ alone," he replied coolly.

Clark stumbled out of the ring as Luthor spoke, making his way over to his fallen captor. Regardless of the torturous existence this man had brought down upon his head these last few months, and in spite of his better judgment, Clark's instincts led him to the wounded man's side. Taking the shirt off his back he pressed it into Finneran's abdomen, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Lex snickered at the scene as the two men's eyes locked. Clark recognized it; it was the wild-eyed terror-filled stare of a dying man.

* * *

_**FBI/MPD Computer Crime Lab, City Hall Headquarters, **_**February 11, 2008. **Lt. Henrickson stared at the screen in shock at the cold-blooded murder he'd just witnessed. It wasn't the senseless act that startled him at all, it was Superman's reaction to it that had him wracking his brain for a reason. 

"Why…why would he do that? After everything Finneran's done…" he asked of no one in particular.

Fialkowski answered. "I don't know, Sir…but you should…" He sighed. "Sir, you better sit down. There's more."

* * *

"**???", Day 159.** Finneran gasped and spluttered on the floor, blood trickling out of the side of his mouth as his breathing became more ragged. The symbol of the House of El on the white t-shirt was now stained red where Clark pressed it up against Finneran's stomach. The dying man grabbed at his captive's arm, leaving scratch marks up and down his exposed bicep and forearm in a vain attempt to stave off the inevitable. Clark ignored the pain and held him down, knowing there was little else to be done for him but to keep him still so his passing would be less painful than it already was. Their eyes locked once more—cobalt blue meeting cold, hard black—and then Nick Finneran's body went limp on the floor. 

Unbeknownst to them both, Lex Luthor had watched it all with an absurd and devilish smile on his face. He motioned to one of the men to get something out of a nearby cabinet while Superman was preoccupied, and the thug dutifully brought out what looked like a covered silver dining tray. When Finneran died Clark shakily crawled back, wiping his bloodied hands on his pants as he sat a few feet away, legs outstretched and panting heavily.

"Ken, Jack, Ryan? Hold him down," Luthor's maliciously raspy voice was heard saying. The brief expression of grief on Superman's face vanished and was replaced with a mixture of wide-eyed dread and derision.

"**NO!!!**" he commanded, struggling to get to his feet. The webcam shook as whoever was behind it jumped up and joined the other two men in the room in subduing Superman. They pinned him face first to the ground as he thrashed wildly about trying to get out of their grip. Luthor strolled toward them as if he hadn't a care in the world, the tray borne aloft in his hand in the manner of a butler. Without hesitation he whipped off the cover and set it down on the floor, near enough to Superman so that he could fully feel the effects of the glowing green rock beside the syringe. Clark didn't stop struggling, but he began panting and sweating more heavily than before, and his eyes bugged out of his head when the tray's contents came into full view.

"**NOOO!!!!! DON'T DO THIS!!! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!!!!**" he cried out again as Luthor took the needle and shot a little squirt off, enjoying the look of fear in Superman's eyes as he did so. Without another moment's hesitation he jabbed it into the superhero's arm, forcing the substance into his bloodstream. Clark winced as the needle broke the surface of his skin and then quickly succumbed to the darkness.

All four men stepped away from the motionless figure, and the three goons turned to Luthor for further direction.

"We've been compromised. Pack the equipment, we're leaving." The men went to do his bidding, one of them moving near the computer and unplugging it from the wall. The screen went black.

* * *

_**FBI/MPD Computer Crime Lab, City Hall Headquarters, **_**February 11, 2008. **"Was that…is he…?" Henrickson was at a loss for words. He wasn't aware of the single tear that slid down his cheek toward his three-day old stubble, either. 

O'Doyle turned to his stunned superior and replied, "We don't know, Sir. We just don't know…"


	41. Chapter 41

_**Metropolis,**_** February 11, 2008. **Lois had been in the park that afternoon with Jason, getting in one last snowball fight before the snow turned to brown and gray mush. In the weeks following Agent Chase's betrayal and disappearance they'd been unraveling his life, hoping to find new insight into where Luthor and Finneran might be hiding Superman. The cell phone records were a dead end; all contact was kept to a minimum, and he only got in touch with them once each at the Rordenville and Lexington facilities which they'd already vacated; both calls also only lasted thirty seconds or less. The Task Force talked to family members and friends of Spencer Chase's, as well as followed his credit card records to see where he'd traveled to and what he'd purchased in the last twelve months, but they just kept hitting dead ends there too.

Lois pretended not to see Jason molding a snowball in his hands while hiding behind a tree. She marveled at how her child was coping with the dramatic shift in his life this past year; first the discovery of his true father, then Richard's departure, their move from the house to the apartment, and finally his attempted kidnapping and Clark's abduction. Lois knew he felt things deeply, like his father, but that he was also a trooper, just like her. She grinned to herself as she recalled Martha's words from all those months ago..._"He is the best of both of you"…_ and then Jason lobbed the snowball at her shoulder.

She grinned at him slyly as he poked his head out from behind the tree and giggled at her. "I'm gonna get you for that, Munchkin! Come here!" Lois tore off after him as he darted away. Even though he knew he could outrun his mother by several yards if he wanted to he made sure to keep his super-speed in check, just as both his parents had told him to do. She tossed a snowball over his head. He whizzed around.

"MOM! You almost HIT ME!" he cried in mock-horror. She ran over to him and tackled him in a hug, the two of them collapsing in a laughing heap on the snowy ground. They stayed that way for several minutes before Jason rolled away from her and began making a snow angel. Lois sat up and felt the cell phone vibrate from inside her jacket pocket.

"Hello?"

"Lois? It's Al. You better get back here, something big has happened."

"Have you found him? Have there been any new leads?" she asked breathlessly. Jason stopped moving and sat up, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

Al remained silent on the line; she could hear him breathe in and out as he thought about what to say. "Just… just come in, Lane. Trust me." He hung up before she could protest.

"Sweetie, we have to go," she said, turning to Jason anxiously. He nodded mutely and stood up, reaching out for her hand. She took it in hers and hastened to the sidewalk to hail a cab to City Hall, not bothering to stop at the apartment and change out of their wet play clothes.

* * *

Jason stared in wide-eyed wonder at the activity around him. Men and women strode up and down the hallways; some were in MPD uniforms, others were in business suits, and they were all ducking hurriedly in and out of offices, barking orders and delivering papers. He looked into one of the rooms as the door opened when they passed and saw several tables filled with computers and computer equipment, just like his Dad's friend Chloe had with her when she visited.

Lois had never brought Jason here, had never WANTED to bring Jason here. As crazy as things were this was a bit of insanity she _knew_ he could do without. He knew people were looking for his father, and that was all he needed to know. Jason didn't need to hear how many people, see what they were doing, or wonder why they were propelling themselves around the City Hall headquarters like headless chickens. She shuddered in spite of herself as they passed the Computer Lab…_and he __**definitely**__ does not need to see what goes on in __**there**_.

They made their way into the War Room and saw still more commotion. Lois looked anxiously around the room until she spotted Lt. Henrickson and flagged him down. He broke off his conversation with an FBI Agent and made his way through the hubbub toward her.

"Lane, good, it's about da—"

She motioned down with her eyes and he noticed Jason for the first time. "We were in the park when you called and you told me to get here so we came right over. Al I'd like you to meet my son, Jason. Jason, this is my friend Lieutenant Henrickson. He's helping me search for Superman," she said. The little boy held out his hand to the older man.

"Nice to meet you," he said shyly and in the manner Lois had taught him.

"I…uh…"_Crap, I've never been good with kids_..."Nice to meet you too there, Buddy," he replied, engulfing the tiny hand in his meaty one. Al grabbed the first uniformed officer that crossed his path.

"BURNS!" the kid jumped and looked away from what he'd been reading inside a manila folder. He rushed over to his superior.

"Yes, Sir?"

"I need to speak with Miss Lane here in private. Can you go take her son to get a candy bar or a soda or something and sit with him in the hall outside the conference room 'til we're through? That is, if that's alright with you, Lois," he finished nervously, glancing at her for approval. She nodded and bent down to Jason's height.

"Honey? Mommy's going to talk with Lt. Henrickson for a minute and I want you to go with Officer Burns." The boy looked hesitantly from his Mother to Lt. Henrickson to Officer Burns, his concern for her clearly written across his face. _Oh he looks so much like Clark there…_

His tone was almost whining as he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Jason, I'm sure. Now Officer Burns is going to get you a candy bar, won't that be nice? Behave yourself now, Sweetie; I won't be gone long." She brushed the hair off his forehead and kissed it as he hugged her, then he took hold of the hand Officer Burns held out to him. Luckily for them all the young cop had nieces and nephews Jason's age and he had a natural way with kids. Pretty soon Lois heard them chatting away like old friends as they rounded the corner toward the vending machines. Al led her into the conference room.

"So what's going on?" she asked before the door had time to close.

"You mean you haven't seen the news or heard anything?"

"No, I told you, I've been in the park all afternoon with Jason. I came straight here once you hung up on me, so why don't you tell me what the heck is going on!" her voice rose angrily…_Watch it, Lane, or you'll come undone…_she told herself, forcing her blood pressure down to a more reasonable level.

He took another deep breath again, just like he had done on the phone, and she knew the news wasn't going to be good. She voluntarily sat down and looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Another fight was aired on the internet today…we managed to catch it live, which meant we could get a trace on it sooner, maybe get a viable hit off it, but you know how those never pan out for us…" he sighed, his mind flashing over those last five minutes. "Lois, they figured out that Chase is gone. Finneran came into the room mid-fight and told Luthor as much. Then he stopped the fight, and I guess he thought the camera stopped too, but it didn't. The two men had words, and Luthor pulled a gun on him and shot him. Nick Finneran is dead." She nodded silently, none too grieved by the loss. "But not before Superman crawled to him and used his own shirt to stop the blood."

"He did what?!"

"You heard me; he used his own shirt to stop the blood, to try and stop Finneran from dying." He waited a moment, allowing his words to have their impact. "It was futile, Lois, the way he was shot, right in the gut at point blank range…Superman had to have known that, and yet he did it anyway."

_You damn noble idiot!_ She screamed at him in her head. _He colludes with Luthor to kidnap you, tears you away from your family…OUR FAMILY…tortures you on a daily basis, and you HELP HIM as he lay DYING?!?! YOU STUPID NOBLE IDIOT!_

Al watched her face closely; he knew there was something going on behind those hazel eyes that was just beyond his comprehension, and he waited until she was ready before continuing.

"There's more." She snapped to and waited expectantly. "Lois…I don't know how to tell you this. I don't think I _should_ be the one to tell you this, and I certainly don't _want_ to be the one telling you this…After Finneran died, Luthor...Luthor did something to Superman. He had a Kryptonite rock and a needle, and he…well, Superman put up a struggle, but Luthor got him with the needle anyway, and…and he just went limp, just went limp right there on the floor."

The tears formed in her eyes at Henrickson's implication. _It's not possible, it's just not possible, he can't be…_"Are you telling me Superman's dead?" _He can't be dead, he can't be dead, he can't be dead…_Lois started rocking slightly back and forth in time with her mental chant.

In a barely audible voice, he replied "We're not sure. No one can really say anything for certain without knowing what he was injected with. The feed cut off too quickly to detect if he was breathing or not, not to mention that we don't know how his body reacts to certain stimulants or sedatives the way ours do."

Lois sat rigidly in her seat, willing her tears to disappear. Al's news was upsetting, but he did have a point…_We really don't know anything…he could still be alive…_She clung to that faint hope, trying to get her heart and mind to agree.

At last she looked up at Al, her stoic face meeting his somber one. "What's our next move?"

He shifted uncomfortably on the spot. "Right now? Um…" he stared at the wall to her left, unable to meet her eye. "Right now we don't have any leads to go on. We don't know where they are or where they're going, and we only know they're on the move again because Luthor said as much before the feed cut off. The best we can hope for…" he gritted his teeth as if bracing himself before saying those last few words, "…is that they air a new fight soon. Then we can start traces on the new bunker." _And know for sure that he's still alive_, they both thought simultaneously. Lt. Henrickson walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. Refusing to meet her gaze, he said "He put up a hell of a fight, Lois," and left the conference room by the back door.

She sat there contemplating that for several minutes. It didn't surprise her that Clark was a fighter; she more than anybody knew how strong he was, physically and emotionally. But it was the absurdity of the situation they found themselves in—the fact that he _had_ to fight to live, and that she _was_ worrying about the physical well-being of a seemingly invulnerable man. _But he isn't so invulnerable anymore, not with all that Kryptonite around…What if…?_ She left the questioned unanswered, as her ringing cell phone broke her out of her morbid train of thought.

"LOIS, WHAT'S HAPPENED?! THEY'RE SAYING HE'S DEAD!!!" Martha's frantic voice shouted from the other end of the line.


	42. Chapter 42

_**Smallville,**_** February ??, 2008. **The days following speculation of Superman's death were the worst in Martha Kent's memory, worse than the pain of losing her daughter and her husband combined. With them, there were tearful final moments, whispers of 'I love you' and 'Good-bye'—there was finality to their passing. But with Clark…_I can't even acknowledge that he is MY SON!_ she screamed out at the world angrily in her head. Even now, not knowing whether he was alive or dead, Martha stubbornly refused to give up his secret. _If Luthor killed him…_She was never a woman prone to violence, but if ever a time called for it she knew that Lex Luthor would be on the deserving end of her wrath.

One thing she was sure of, was that she was no longer silver-haired—she had to have gone white with worry what with everything going on in the last few months and especially in the last few days. She kept to the house mostly, even refusing Ben Hubbard's company for fear that her emotions would betray her connection to the Man of Steel.

Lois had been calling nearly every hour on the hour to check in on her. When Martha first heard the conjecture on the TV she called her, and Lois' first notion was to catch a flight out to Smallville to be with her, but the elder woman quickly grounded the idea.

"Lois, listen to me," she said urgently into the phone. "It won't do either of us any good to have you fly out here and console me when all the information and action is there. I believe you when you say you only found out a moment ago yourself, but I want you to keep me updated from here on out, ok? You're the only link I have to him right now…" she let her sentence trail off, fearing her voice would betray the brave front she was then trying to put on.

The news Martha got from Lois in those phone calls was neither good nor bad—if anything there was little of it to be had at all. The trail had gone completely cold after that last broadcast. In-between updates Martha found herself doing a lot of praying and a lot of weeping; she knew that in spite of all the work the people in Metropolis were doing it was all in God's hands now.

* * *

"**???", February 11, 2008. **Luthor gazed around at the new facility. By his estimation, each one had gotten successively smaller, not to mention shabbier. His private study was complete, but there was no defined fighting area, and the men's sleeping quarters and his sleeping quarters were very hastily built. The only properly constructed area in the whole of the bunker was the prisoner's cell._ Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick...these accommodations are not up to par! __**What**__ were you __**possibly**__ thinking…? _He let loose a sigh as the question crossed his mind.

Finneran's panic back at their former lair had caused problems during the transition to the new bunker. When Lex left the room after killing his partner he was confronted with chaos. Half of the hired men were hurriedly packing their belongings—a few of them were stooping so low as to steal whatever valuable trinkets and equipment they could get their hands on—and nearly all were preparing to flee the operation altogether. Lex took a few steps down the hall toward his office and saw one of the younger thugs walking out, several boxes of his private Cuban cigar collection in his hands. Without a moment's hesitation Luthor shot him on site.

The echo of the round sounded throughout the bunker, causing all activity to cease.

"We're leaving," he said in an eerily calm voice. "And we're leaving in an organized fashion. Any of you who refuse to comply will have to deal with ME. Collect the equipment and burn the paperwork…we move out in one hour." He finished speaking and strode toward his office, the sounds of his boots on the floor the only noise breaking the silence. Lex stepped over the body of the young man he'd killed and entered the room behind him, collecting the paperwork and personal belongings he would need for this latest transfer.

By the time they left the bunker, Superman's limp, shirtless form had been hurled into the back of the truck. Lenny, the driver, had the engine idling and was waiting for Lex to get in when he instead tossed his briefcase inside the cab and turned back. Opening the back door to see the guards sitting there with the Kryptonite rocks and the unconscious Superman, he climbed in. Luthor reached into his pocket and pulled out another syringe.

"Uh, Boss?" a scruffy-looking man in the corner asked hesitantly. "Don't you…I mean…isn't one dose enough to knock him out til we get there?"

Lex gave him an icy stare. "Daniel, stop thinking and your lifespan will increase exponentially while under my employ. Is that understood?" The man quickly nodded, although he wasn't entirely sure what Luthor meant. Lex jabbed the needle roughly into the already sedate Superman's arm, going through with the action more so to vent his own frustration at the situation Finneran had created then for any other purpose, and he exited the vehicle, securing the latch on the back of the truck as he went.

The six hour ride to the new facility passed in silence. Lenny made one attempt at putting on the radio and received a gruff "Don't" for his efforts. It took nine hours between learning that their inside man in Metropolis had been compromised until the final crate had been unloaded off the last truck at their latest 'home'. Lex sank into the sole leather armchair in his study and prepared to light a cigar, turning to face the television mounted on the wall as he did so. A simple click of the remote brought the screen to life and a grim looking announcer popped up on the screen, seemingly staring straight at him.

"Back to our Top Story tonight, as we enter Day 159 of Superman's Abduction rumors abound surrounding the death of our beloved hero. Authorities working to find the Man of Steel have stated that he was seen being injected with an unknown substance by Lex Luthor sometime after the last bout was aired on the internet this afternoon, and that Superman then slipped into an unconscious state. However, they caution that reports as to Superman's death are speculative at this point in time. We warn you that the nature of the images we are about to show are very graphic, and not suitable for young children."

Lex watched as the announcer's face was replaced by his own image inside the previous bunker, stepping away from Finneran's body and toward Superman's struggling form on the floor. He swiveled the chair around and pressed the intercom button on his desk.

"Bruce?" his raspy voice called out in barely restrained rage.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Please bring Kenneth to my office. Immediately."

"Right away, Mr. Luthor."

Minutes later, an unsuspecting Bruce and Kenny walked into Mr. Luthor's office. Only one of the hired men walked back out.

* * *

"**???", February 15, 2008. **"Mr. Luthor?" Dan poked his head cautiously around the open doorway to his Boss' office.

Lex glanced up from his book and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"It looks like he's coming 'round, Sir. You said to let you know when it happened."

"Yes, thank you, Daniel. That will be all." The young thug looked at him curiously for a moment then ducked out of sight. Lex strode over to a nearby cabinet and pulled out another Kryptonite rock and a syringe before making his way to the prisoner's cell.

Luthor threw back the steel door and confidently entered the room. One of the men had given Superman a dirty t-shirt and thrown a thin blanket over him as he lay sedated on the concrete floor. His breaths were coming in quicker now as the effects of the tranquilizer were wearing off. He gave him a kick in the side just for good measure, then bent down menacingly beside him and pressed the rock to Superman's upper arm, watching the scorch mark appear on his skin. Pulling the rock an inch away, he jabbed the needle into his bloodstream once more.

"Let your public worry a little longer, Superman…" he muttered.

* * *

"**???", Day 166.** The odd smoky-salty sensation hit his nose and sent a torrent of electrical impulses to his brain, snapping him back to consciousness. He sat bolt upright, startling the man crouching by his side.

"Phew," Dan said more for his sake than Superman's. "That first time I thought one dose would kill you. And then this time the Boss went ahead and gave you THREE! You were out for a week…thought for sure you'd be a goner, man, but you're made of tough stuff…" He got up and slipped the smelling salts back into his jacket pocket.

Clark was seething and his mind was reeling. He gripped the thin cotton blanket on the ground next to him. to steady himself

His baritone voice was raspy for want of water, making his tone sound even more threatening. His breathing was irregular as he struggled to remain sitting upright. "Why…are you…doing this…TO ME?!?!"

Dan backed away, hands held up awkwardly in surrender. "Hey man, I'm just tryin' to make a livin', you know? The money's too good, and no job worth havin' ever wants to hire an ex-con." Dan still cowered in front of Superman's weakened form, and Clark had never wanted to cause anyone more harm than the sniveling creature before him, save for one other.

"**LEAVE…ME…ALONE!!!**" he shouted suddenly, his booming voice startling the pathetic little man. He leapt straight up into the air and bolted out of the room.

Lex Luthor had been walking down a nearby corridor when he heard Superman cry out. A perverse smile crossed his face.

* * *

"**???", February 19, 2008.** Kenneth's death meant that Lenny was now in charge of operating the computer and video equipment. He was skilled enough, but unfortunately for him Kenny had taken all the secrets of his evasive protocols with him to the grave, a fact that the other man was unaware of. However, this was only part of Luthor's ultimate undoing; the other part lay with the late Nicholas Finneran, and with Lex himself.

Superman had been conscious for less than 24 hours when Luthor had Bruce and Guy drag him into the study. Lex handed his suit jacket off to Guy, who draped it over a chair on one side of the room before turning to await his Boss' instructions. Luthor vented his frustration with the late-Nick Finneran some more, pounding on the sagging form of the Man of Steel with a Kryptonite laced pair of brass knuckles. The beating went on for twenty minutes before he turned Superman over to be worked upon still further by Guy and Bruce.

Unlike the set up in the first bunker, with the elaborate boxing ring, fancy equipment and thick black curtains, their latest arrangement contained the bare minimum necessary to keep the prisoner and the hired men in line. Luthor saw all of this, but he was too distracted by his other thoughts to truly _see_ the danger he was putting himself and his men in.

The danger of getting caught.


	43. Chapter 43

"**???", Day 167.** Breathing was done with difficulty, Clark's ribs saw to that. Luthor and his hired thugs hadn't used the sun lamps on him since the last transfer and he was beginning to miss the brief respite their glow brought him.

He knew he had no fight left in him. It was impossible; he was too doped up on whatever drugs Luthor had flooded his system with, and too tired from all the pain to keep pushing back whenever he was pushed. Clark was furious, unbelievably furious with Luthor, not only for stealing his life right out from under him but also for snuffing it out so casually, for he knew that his death was a short time in coming—he had seen it earlier in his captor's eyes. As much as he wanted to live for Lois, Jason and Martha's sakes, his spirit was now thoroughly broken, and the pleasure the criminal mastermind took in his torturous existence had been greatly diminished.

Clark lay on his back in his small prison room, and his angry thoughts turned from Luthor to his biological father, Jor-el.

_FATHER! Did you know that this was what was to become of me?! You sent me to this planet to save me, to have me protect the people of my adopted home world when I was of age, and yet look how they treat me! You should have let me die with the rest of our race…_He despaired a moment longer before re-thinking what he'd just said.

_NO! I didn't mean that! Not all humans are as base and cruel as these that imprison me, and I have gladly used my powers for the greater good as often as I was able. Had you not sent me to Earth to save me…Father, I never would have met Lois, never would have known what unconditional, passionate love was like. And Jason! His very existence is a miracle…I only regret that my son will never have the chance to know me, or to learn of the legacy of our people…_

His eyes scanned the concrete ceiling for something, anything, to comfort him in his final hours...but there was no comfort to be found.

_I do not wish to die, but if I do, I know that it was meant to be. Jor-el, you saved me from certain destruction on our planet when I was only an infant, but even your hand cannot spare me here. _

Clark sighed aloud in the gloom. The loneliness he felt while locked in that dark dank cell overwhelmed him in a way that years as an outsider on Earth had never truly done.

* * *

_**FBI/MPD Computer Crime Lab, City Hall Headquarters**_**, February 19, 2008. **Eric Fialkowski re-entered the lab, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and wishing there was a magic pill he could take to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth. All the Techs had been watching and re-watching the footage for months now, but no matter how much he saw it still made him nauseous._ The day I don't get sick seeing this stuff is the day I turn in my badge…_he thought as he made his way back to the computer where his partner, Chris Burns, sat staring at the screen. Just then something caught Fialkowski's eye.

"STOP THE TAPE! BACK IT UP!" he yelled, causing all eyes in the room to focus on him.

"What? Why?"

"JUST DO IT!" All the Techs and Officers in the room were shocked by Eric's bold display, and tuned in to see just what had him all riled up. Burns rewound the footage.

"THERE!" he screamed, pointing to one corner of the frame. "Zoom in on that!"

He pointed to the suit jacket that Lex's thug had left folded on a chair in the corner of the room. The inside label of the custom-made charcoal gray jacket was grainy but visible on the screen. Burns magnified it to 25 times it's normal size.

"Can you clean it up a bit?" Eric asked anxiously. Everyone in the room collectively held their breath as Burns re-formatted the image; it was the first slip-up they'd noticed in the last six months and they all hoped it would pay off.

The writing began to grow clearer and the embroidered name became visible. Only Eric dared read it aloud as it became visible.

"Mancini & Son's Tailors…..17 West 35th Street…..CHICAGO! THEY'RE IN CHICAGO!!!!" He tore out the door screaming all the way to the War Room, leaving a trail of puzzled-looking workers in his wake.

* * *

Lois had been going through paperwork in the War Room all afternoon without pause since she learned that Clark was still alive. It was good news, to be certain, but it also meant that he was getting the living daylights beat out of his Kryptonite-riddled body too, a fact which caused her to dive into her work with renewed vigor.

She was walking back to her desk with a fresh mug of coffee when Eric entered the room screaming, "CHICAGO, THEY'RE IN CHICAGO! LEIUTENANT, THEY'RE IN CHICAGO! THEY'RE IN…" Lois' coffee was sent shattering to the floor at the news.

"How do you know they're in Chicago??" Al shouted back at him.

Fialkowski stopped screaming and struggled to catch his breath, all the excitement having driven it right out of him. "The jacket…Luthor took off…tailor-made…label…Mancini & Son's…West 35th Street…Chicago…" he looked optimistically up into Al's eyes. Lt. Henrickson and Agent Woodrow were instead conferring with one another, poring over a list of the possible locations the last computer trace had come up with. Their heads nodded in agreement as she pointed to something on the list.

Clarissa stood up on a nearby chair and addressed the shell-shocked room. "Ok people, LISTEN UP! We have a _POSSIBLE_ location on Superman's whereabouts! O'Doyle, get on the horn with the Chicago P.D. and have them start surveying the area; make sure they know what to look for, give them a description of the other bunkers we found, and for God's sake tell them to do it all QUIETLY! I'll be calling our affiliate in the City to coordinate our efforts there shortly. Everyone else go back over every scrap of paper and tell me if there's ANY connection to the Windy City AT ALL. I don't care if it's the warehouse where Marganic buys their company toilet paper, I want to know about it! We've got the upper hand on Luthor for once people, so let's TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT!!!" She jumped down off the chair and immediately got on the phone.

Lois' wits finally returned to her. She forgot all about the broken mug of coffee at her feet and made straight for Lt. Henrickson. "Al, I'm coming with you."

He turned to face her. "What? No, Lois, I can't let you do that…you're a civilian and if something goes wrong…"

"I'll have you know I'm better trained and armed than most civilians—eighteen years as an Army Brat and you pick up a thing or two—not to mention that I know Superman better than any of you do. Do you even know where to take him or what to do with him once you get him out of there?"

"I…we…it…"

"I thought not," she replied, hands on her hips. "I'm coming with you, that's final."

"Lois…"

Agent Woodrow interjected, covering the mouthpiece of the phone with her free hand. "She's coming with us, Henrickson, on my orders. And_ that is_ final."

Al shrugged his shoulders before asking her, "So what are you going to do with your kid?"

* * *

She had to act fast, of that she was sure. Her mind was in such a whirl since she dashed out of City Hall and jumped in the cab it felt like she'd been working off of six cappuccinos instead of the adrenaline rush from her euphoria. _We've found him…we're going to get that bastard Luthor and get Clark back…_

On her way to Jason's after-school care she dialed Perry's number at the_Planet_.

"White," the gruff voice on the other end of the line responded.

"Perry? It's Lois. Listen, I've got GREAT news, but you can't go to print with it yet. You gotta promise me you won't go to print with it, Chief, and then you have to do me a favor. I know you're not going to like it but I need you, Perry, please!"

He knew what the excitement in her voice meant without even having to ask, but he did anyway for fear of giving up the pretense of the hard-lined, no-nonsense Editor his reputation staked him as. "I'm making no deals until you tell me,;now what is it?"

"WE THINK WE'VE FOUND HIM!!!" she squealed for joy, sounding more like a teenage girl than a thirty-two year old woman.

"Superman?! Where? And what do you need me to do?"

"Chicago, Perry, they think he's in Chicago. I'm going with them and I need you to watch Jason. Please, Perry, I need to go help him…"

"Lois, you're the only one on the planet who probably CAN help him after all this, of course you're going! And eventually I'll expect a _Planet_ exclusive from this too," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Drop Jason by the office with his things and a spare key to your place when you're ready and I'll look after him for you."

She let loose a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Chief, you have no idea how much this means…"

"Save it, Lois. Just go get our Boy in Blue back, ok?"

"I will, Chief, I will." She hung up the line as the driver pulled up to the daycare center.

Perry White sat back in his chair with a ridiculously broad grin on his face. He swiveled around so as to look out over Metropolis, and he couldn't help but picture the day that the primary colored hero would once again be gracing it's skies.

* * *

Jason was kept in the dark as to Lois' plans. She didn't want to get his hopes up as she had in November only to see him depressed again should she come home without his Father. Packing several days' worth of clothing into his child-sized suitcase before packing an overnight bag for herself she hustled him back out onto the curb and quickly hailed another cab, this time for the _Daily Planet_ building.

The ding of the elevator attracted Jimmy's attention away from the digital photos he'd been reviewing on his computer screen, and Jason instantly broke away from his Mother's grip and headed to the photographer's desk.

"Hi, Mr. Jimmy!" he cried, rushing over to his chair.

"Hey there, Buddy! What are you doing back here? I thought your Mom was busy with…" his voice trailed off as Lois passed his desk, beaming in a way he hadn't seen since she found out Superman was alright after the New Krypton crisis. Jimmy knew that look meant nothing but good news, but he instead turned his attention back to the boy beside him, biding his time until he was let into her confidence. "Let's go see if we can't find you some paper and colored pencils around here…" He took Jason by the hand to go set him up at a vacant desk nearby.

Lois knocked at the Chief's door and he quickly waved her in. She handed her spare key over to him and placed Jason's suitcase on the sofa by the glass wall.

Perry looked her over, trying to gauge her mood before proceeding. "So, what more can you tell me?" he asked anxiously.

"Are we on the record or off?" she asked flippantly, sounding more like her old self than she had in months.

"Look, Lane, I…"

"Relax, Perry. One of the Techs back at headquarters noticed a jacket that Luthor left lying around in the frame of the last fight a few hours ago. They enlarged it and found a label for a tailor in Chicago. The computer guys also got a hit off the last trace they ran that pointed there as well, so we're flying out tonight to see if it pans out." She let out a satisfied sigh as she swept an errant hair off her face. "I feel really good about this, Chief. Really good."

"So I see. And where's the Kiddo now?"

"He's with Jimmy. I'm going to go say good-bye and then head out; we're leaving in ninety minutes. Oh, and Chief?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering what other favors she was possibly going to call in. "Yes?"

"Try not to let Jason hear too much about this. He knows I'm going away, but…well I don't want to get his hopes up about possibly finding Superman. Ok?"

He looked at her quizzically before remembering how obsessed his young nephew was with the superhero and then nodded in understanding. _He would not take disappointment well…and neither would his mother if this doesn't work out…_ "He won't hear about it from me, Lois, you can trust me on that. I'll try and keep him away from the TV news as well, but as far as the print…you have to remember, Lane, we do work in a newspaper office, and gossip travels fast."

"I know, but at least you'll try. I've got to run Perry, I'll call you as soon as I hear something, thanks!" She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek before ducking out the door to talk to her son. Perry chuckled and shook his head, glad that he'd had the foresight to shut the blinds against prying eyes. _If those newshounds had seen that they'd have thought we'd __both__ gone soft…_he watched as Lois said her good-byes to Jason, then headed to the elevator bay and back downstairs. _Go get him, Lois, and know that our thoughts and prayers are with you…_he said to himself as the doors closed behind her.


	44. Chapter 44

_**Chicago, IL**_**, February 20, 2008.** Time could not have moved anymore slowly if it tried. _And I thought these last few months were torturously long…these last few hours seem like YEARS!!!_ her mind cried out. She had called Martha to let her in on the latest development before boarding the plane to O'Hare Airport.

"Are you sure?" Martha asked breathlessly into the phone, not daring to cherish a hope after experiencing so many near-misses.

"Martha, they're taking me with them;_ that's_ how sure they are. They've never taken me with them before when they located the other two bunkers."

"Oh Lois!" The other woman gasped and sobbed in relief on the other end of the line.

She whispered soothingly into the phone, trying to keep her voice down with the other members of the Task Force around. "We're going to get him back so just sit tight…we're going to get him back."

Lois and the other members of the Task Force had arrived very late the previous evening, and after depositing their bags at the hotel went straight to work at Police Headquarters. She directed the efforts of the young officers there, telling them what to look for during their patrols while simultaneously poring over deeds of sale for commercial properties for the last twelve months.

By late-afternoon Al forced her to call it quits and dragged her and Agent Woodrow back to the hotel where they went to their separate rooms to get some much-needed shut eye. "Not gonna do him any good if we're…" he let out an unintentional yawn, "…if we're not on our A game. Meet down here in the lobby in five hours, ok?" Lois was so exhausted all she could do was yawn in agreement.

As she settled into slumber she dreamt wildly of her reunion with Clark; in the dream, he took her in his strong arms right then and there, unable to refrain from kissing her deeply in front of all the people who'd helped free him. They got so lost in the kiss that the room melted away around them and they floated up and up until they broke the surface of the clouds, the sky around them as clear blue as his eyes. Pausing and pulling back to catch her breath, Lois stopped to get a better look at him—only to discover that it wasn't Clark she had been kissing all this time but Lex Luthor. He laughed maniacally in her face as he released her from his grip, sending her tumbling and screaming back to Earth…

She woke up with a thud as she toppled out of the bed and landed on the floor, tangled in her bed sheets and with her clothes still on. _That can't be a good omen can it? Oh God…_she scrambled out of the sheets after three hours of rest and took a quick shower to help make her more alert. Changing hastily into jeans, sneakers and a black button-up shirt she booked it out of the room and back to Headquarters, leaving word at the front desk for Agent Woodrow and Lt. Henrickson.

It was late in the evening when Lois strode back into the Chicago P.D. War Room, hair flying, ready to get back to work. She looked around for someone to direct her on what needed to be done when a voice called out to her from the corner. "Couldn't sleep either, huh? I got here fifteen minutes ago myself...we could've shared a cab," Agent Woodrow replied, the dark circles under her eyes shone prominently under the bad fluorescent lighting. She pushed a cup of coffee forward to Lois.

"Thank you," she replied, sitting down across from her and sipping the brew.

"Don't thank me, it's awful stuff."

Lois smiled. "Actually, it reminds me of the sludge Perry brews back in the newsroom. Maybe this is where he got the recipe from," she said in a feeble attempt to crack a joke—but she couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding her earlier dream had left her with.

Agent Woodrow chuckled half-heartedly. "I know exactly what you mean…" she replied, letting her thought trail off mid-sentence. Their eyes met; Lois could see the strain in Clarissa's while Agent Woodrow could see the sagging hope in hers. "We're going to bring him back this time. This isn't a fool's errand we're on, you know?"

"I know," she replied meekly. What she couldn't tell was whose spirits Clarissa's words were supposed to bolster, Lois' or her own. A stillness passed over them briefly before their attention was caught by a flurry of movement in the opposite corner of the room.

* * *

_**Chicago Bunker**_**, Day 169. **Clark had judged correctly; Lex Luthor had grown tired of keeping him alive. It was very early in the morning, but the madman couldn't sleep—he was too full of his near-complete victory to waste anymore time. He sat in his study, twirling the unloaded pistol childishly around on his desk.

Meanwhile, the same thug that had helped drug him opened the door to Clark's cell and pushed forward a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. The prisoner eyed the meal suspiciously then locked eyes with the cowardly figure in the doorway.

"So this is to be it then?"

Daniel cleared his throat nervously. "Excuse me?"

"Don't play games with me! I know what this means," Clark said, gesturing angrily at the food placed before him.

The other man stood a ways off, fidgeting. "I…uh…beg your pardon?" was all he had time to spit out before Clark picked up the tin plate and hurled it at the quivering man's retreating figure. The sound of tin on steel commingled with Clark's shouts as Dan retreated down the hallway, causing the man to shudder.

After a time he stopped shouting and opted to sit silently on the floor, food splattered around him, gathering the last of his strength along with his final thoughts. _So this is how it ends…_

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** February 21, 2008. **Jason slept soundly in his Uncle Perry's guest room, dreaming of playing a game of catch in the clouds with his father. Then, for reason's unknown, he woke up with a start at 6:30 in the morning, a cold sweat pouring down his face.

"MOMMY!!!!" he cried out in alarm, not knowing what was going on or remembering where he was.

Perry came rushing into the room, tying the belt on his robe, and he sat down next to the boy on the bed. "What is it, Jason, what's the matter?"

"I don't know…" he shakily replied. Jason started rocking back and forth and Perry held him close. "Something's wrong, I want my Mommy…"

"I know, Buddy, I know...she'll be home soon…" _I hope…_he added silently for good measure.

They stayed that way for almost an hour, and then, Jason started sobbing heavily as the sensation of grief flooded his system.

"What happened?" the older man asked as the boy cried unceasingly into his arms.

It took Jason a long time to form the words. "S-something's missing…I'm empty..." was the only response Perry got.

* * *

_**Chicago Bunker,**_**February 21, 2008. **Luthor had enough of toying around with the gun and opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out the white box of ammunition. He opened the chamber and carefully loaded six Kryptonite bullets into it before snapping it shut, then drove the same finger down on the intercom button.

"Bruce?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?" a groggy disembodied voice responded back.

"I need you and Guy to bring our guest to me in my study. And gather the men around too…they're going to want to witness this."

The voice on the other end became more alert with the order. "Yes, Sir!"

* * *

Guy cautiously unlocked the door and surveyed the cell. The contents of the ruined last meal were immediately in front of him, and beyond that sat the Man of Steel with his eyes closed, seemingly in a meditating trance. He and Bruce strode into the room; Clark didn't even make a move.

"Oh on you don't," Guy said, sneering at him. Turning to Bruce, he added, "He pulled this stunt on Jack and Ryan awhile back, but _I AIN'T FALLIN' FOR IT!_" he spit the last part out in Clark's face, waiting for him to flinch or attempt to punch him. He didn't do either.

Bruce came up next to Guy. "Get up."

To the amazement of both, he did. Clark stood wobbly on his feet and towered over the 5'9" Guy whose jaw dropped open in disbelief. Bruce looked up and down over the weakened but impressive figure next to him and noted that Superman stood a little taller than he did, and he was 6'1". Bruce was also the first to find his voice. "Walk."

Again Clark followed orders without hesitation, falling into step behind Guy as he scrambled to get out of the cell while Bruce brought up the rear. They led him down the winding underground passageways to the Boss' study and knocked on the door.

"Enter!" Lex's joyful voice rang out behind it.

The trio walked into the room to find all the furniture pulled back and the men lining the walls. Clark noted the sheer number of brutes it took to keep him imprisoned—at least twenty to twenty-five by his reckoning, possibly more. He also took note of the possible escape routes; there was the door he entered in as well as one off in the far corner of the room that looked to be a back-entry of some kind. He doubted he could make it very far with either and inhaled deeply, resigning himself once more to his fate.

Luthor stood alone in the center of the room, looking very much the part of judge, jury and executioner in his crisp white suit, the silver pistol gleaming in his hand. Bruce and Guy forced Clark to his knees then stepped back, leaving him alone in front of the madman.

"Well well, Superman, I seem to recall you being in a position similar to this once before…only there'll be no escape for you this time, I can assure you."

Clark just glared up at him, his revulsion for the man showing in every aspect of his stony countenance, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Do you have any famous last words? I'll be sure to pass them on to your girlfriend and _her son_ next time I see them," Luthor added with a sneer.

Clark's teeth further ground in his head at the thought of harm coming to Lois or Jason, but especially at his inability to stop it; and yet he refused to break eye contact with his captor. A few beads of sweat formed on his face as Luthor flashed the gun across his forehead, alerting him to the Kryptonite bullets that awaited in it's chamber.

"You may kill me, Luthor, but you'll never destroy what I stand for. I may be dead and gone but the people of the world won't let you get away with this and you'll be hunted like a dog until the end of your days; and should you succeed here today, should you escape even temporarily, always remember in the end that it was your own arrogance and actions that were the source of your downfall—_always_ remember that."

The old man snickered. "I highly doubt I could _ever_ forget the day that my careful ministrations brought about the death of Superman." He looked around at the assembled men, pandering to the crowd amidst their whistles and cheers for him to finish the job.

"And now," he said, a hush falling over the room once more, "I can end what I first started all those years ago…"

His finger twitched near the trigger.

A shot rang out.

And then, there was silence.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N: **I would like to warn people that in the middle of this chapter I make a slight reference to 'Superman II: The Richard Donner Cut'. It centers around Lois' discovery of Clark's identity while on assignment in Niagara Falls (**SPOILER ALERT:** Instead of Clark's arm landing in the middle of an open fire pit, Lois tests out her theory that Clark is Superman and shoots him point blank. He instantly confesses when he doesn't die--she then informs him that she shot him with a blank). If you haven't seen the _real_ director's version, than I highly recommend that you do so, and soon. It's quite good.

* * *

_**Outskits of Chicago, IL, **_**February 21, 2008. **Two S.W.A.T. trucks and several police cruisers lined the perimeter of the suspected bunker, hoping to surprise it's inhabitants with an early morning entrance. Al kept Lois a good five hundred feet back while Agent Woodrow joined the team going inside as they stealthily crept up to the shed in the middle of the lot. One by one they entered, and once out of sight, all Lois and Al could do was listen to what was transpiring below their feet via radio.

All thoughts fled Lois' mind save for what information was being relayed on their bandwidth. Her legs felt like lead, rooting her to the spot as she heard Squad Leader A quietly command his people forward. By all accounts from the people down below, the bunker appeared to be empty—Lois couldn't tell if that meant Luthor had fled again or if his men had all just recently vacated their beds, and she prayed it was the latter. It was almost 6:30 in the morning and the sun was just beginning it's ascent into the heavens while on the ground an ethereal silence reigned. She strained her nerves to the utmost.

Without warning the crunch of wood doors being forced open and shouts of "FREEZE!" "GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!" "PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!" were heard blaring through the radio. Lois sat forward in her seat next to Al, holding her breath, and waiting to hear Clark's voice.

A single shot rang out, echoing in the room below as well as in the car above. Lois jumped at the pop, her body tensing further still, as a quiet crackling emitted from the radio where frenzied activity had taken place just a moment before.

"GET AN EMT DOWN HERE! WE NEED A MEDIC!" a disembodied voice cried out.

"OH GOD!" Lois said, biting her lip as tears stung her eyes. _I didn't come this far to find you only to lose you, Clark Kent, do you hear me?!?!?!_

* * *

Clarissa moved silently down the hallway at the head of Squad B, watching the light under the door for any signs of movement. Her team stood poised behind her as she motioned for the coordinated strike to begin.

Squad A burst through the front door to the study just as Squad B erupted out the back, surrounding all the men in the room. Agent Woodrow's quick eyes were the first to perceive Lex Luthor standing in the center of it all, pistol aimed at the forehead of the Man of Steel, who was on his knees before him on the ground. His hand was poised on the trigger.

"FREEZE!" she screamed, making him break eye contact with his victim to look at her.

Someone from Squad A cried out, "GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!" while another simultaneously shouted "PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!"

A perverse smile crossed Luthor's face as he turned back to face Superman, his finger clenching a little tighter…

And then the sound of a bullet exiting the chamber of a gun echoed in everyone's ears. The body fell backward on the floor, blood spilling out of it's head wound and seeping into the fabric of the man's clothes.

Clarissa stood stock still, her gun aimed at the spot where Luthor had stood a nanosecond before, a miniscule puff of smoke curling out the barrel of her .38. She had shot suspects in the line of duty before but had never killed anyone, and to kill Lex Luthor…all her years of training and fieldwork fled her mind as she stood frozen to the spot, staring at what she'd done.

Superman never once flinched the entire time Luthor had the gun trained on him. He kept his eyes locked with his captor's until the eruption of noise and movement in the room stole the madman's attention; it was then that Clark's eyes shut and his body reacted of its own accord. The frenzied movement around him soon faded away into silence while every nerve stayed strained and taut preparing for his end.

The sound of the bullet exiting the chamber penetrated the stillness of his mind, and he collapsed on his back in an unconscious heap a split second after his captor.

Clarissa stared at the two prone figures on the ground, one obviously dead, the other sporadically twitching. _Was I too late? Is he…?_

In what seemed like an age someone finally stepped forward and felt for Superman's pulse. The S.W.A.T. team member looked up, eyes wide, and shouted, "GET AN EMT DOWN HERE! WE NEED A MEDIC!"

* * *

Three minutes after the call for a medic came out Lois saw the two EMT's emerge from the shed pushing a gurney between them. They were too far away for her to discern who was in the bed, and without a second thought she bolted out of the car in their direction. Al called after her as she dashed in and around squad cars and away from several officers' grips until she came upon the immobile figure being wheeled toward the back of a waiting ambulance.

His hair was longer than she'd ever seen before and was matted with dirt, as was his bushy beard, but none of that mattered to her eyes for beneath the grime was indeed Clark Kent. Lois desperately wanted to scream out his name but her panic and the remembrance that there were onlookers rendered her momentarily mute, so she tentatively reached out a hand and placed it on his chest, feeling his uncharacteristically slow heartbeat as the two EMT's just stared at her. Clarissa came up behind them at that moment, replacing her gun in her shoulder holster while still shaking and sweating from the experience down below. Al came running up out of breath behind Lois.

"We got there just in time," Agent Woodrow said, coming over and placing a hand delicately on Lois' shoulder. "Luthor…" she trailed off, unsure how much of this the young reporter wanted to hear. Lois' hazel eyes turned to meet hers; the tears were brimming in them but so was the resolve to hear everything regarding what went on down below. "Luthor had a gun trained on him. I pulled the trigger, and…and I killed him. Luthor's dead, Lois; he'll never harm another living soul again," she said sounding as though she were trying to reassure them both.

The medics recovered their wits long enough to push the gurney forward into the awaiting ambulance. Lois climbed in behind them, pulling Clark's hand out from under the blanket and clasping it in her grip as she took her seat beside him.

"We got room for one more," the medic said, as he was about to pull the door closed.

"No, they're both coming," Lois replied determinedly. The man turned to stare at her; her eyes were red, but he knew in spite of the circumstances that she meant business and was not one to be messed around with.

"I guess you could sit up front," he motioned to Lt. Henrickson, and Al moved swiftly to the front of the ambulance while Clarissa pulled herself up into the back. They took off down the street without a moment's hesitation, sirens wailing.

Lois never once let go of his swollen purple-pocked hand, absent-mindedly tracing small loving circles on its back with her fingers while she stared deeply into his sleeping face. She studied what she could, noting that beneath the dirt he was much paler than the last time she gazed upon him. He was also horribly bruised and bloodied, more so than she had ever seen him in his career as the Man of Steel. Her heart ached to see a good man like Clark so thoroughly broken.

Clarissa watched the two of them and pondered her next move. Despite the amount of effort put into locating Superman, no one had considered what to do in the aftermath of his rescue. _None of us even thought that he'd be this incapacitated, we all just assumed he'd be able to walk out on his own, and yet here he is, barely alive... _

They had been traveling for five minutes before Lois thought to ask where they were headed.

"We're going to the hospital, where else?" the driver replied.

"NO! You can't take him there!"

The EMT next to her gave her a curious look. "Why not?"

"There's nothing to be done for him there! They tried to help him in Metropolis, after New Krypton, and it became a mad house. He nearly broke the equipment! The doctors didn't know what they were doing and the people just camped outside for miles and miles…" she shuddered involuntarily at the recollection. "It was awful. He needs privacy and open space, he needs sunlight."

"And I suppose you know where he can get that then?" the man next to her asked patronizingly.

She glared at him, her nurturing instincts taking over. "As a matter of fact _I DO_," she replied icily. He looked at her idiotically as she turned her gaze to Agent Woodrow. "Does the FBI have any planes at the airport here? And can you get some SUV's out on the tarmac too?"

Clarissa furrowed her eyebrows, not liking where this was going. "Yes…" she replied hesitantly. "What are you thinking, Lane?"

_I'm thinking of taking him home…_

**End of Part I**

* * *

**Part II: The Road Home**

_**Smallville, KS,**_** February 21, 2008.** Five planes and five caravans of SUV's and Hummers left the grounds of O'Hare International Airport that Thursday morning headed in ten different directions, but only one was carrying a V.I.P.

Lois sat in the back of the smallest plane available to them next to Clark's still-unconscious form, shifting her position ever so slightly so as to allow more sunlight to seep in through the window and down onto his exposed chest. Against the EMT's advice she cut off his shirt and pulled the blanket down to his waist, exposing his bruised and battered torso to the weak light of the February sun in the hopes of speeding up his recovery.

After the morning's daring rescue in the bunker it became clear to Lt. Henrickson and Agent Woodrow that this was now Lois Lane's show. She settled all of the affairs since they had entered the ambulance and it was only on her authority that they were allowed to remain with her. It was Lois who orchestrated the direction of each of the vehicles to ten separate points around the country to throw anyone and everyone off their scent; she even went so far as to settle Superman in one of the caravans before having them double back to the airport and the lone lingering airplane. Lois waited until the four of them were safely on board with just the pilot before instructing him to head to Wichita, Kansas.

"_What in the heck is out in Kansas that can possibly help this guy? Does she think that by hiding him in Middle America no one will be able to find him? I'm sorry but all it takes is one glance over the corn at this 6'4" hulk and there's no mistaking that he doesn't belong…" _Al thought to himself while Lois was speaking with the pilot.

Agent Woodrow's mind had turned to more practical conclusions as the shock of the morning wore off once they were in mid-air. _"Maybe she's going to an old Army Base her Father was stationed at…or perhaps she has a college friend out there and she figures the connection is too tenuous to be traced by reporters once they catch wind of Superman's rescue? What if it's the one place in America that doesn't have a connection to either of them and that's why she's fleeing there? I don't know, but I really hope she knows what she's doing…"_

The only time Lois relinquished her grip on Clark's hand was when they were up in the air, and she pulled the cell phone out of her pocket. Speaking in a hushed tone in the back of the plane, Clarissa and Al clearly discerned that after consoling and calming down whoever was on the other end of the line Lois was having a very meaningful debate. The only words they caught were "they deserve", "still unconscious", and "shortly".

All too soon to Lois' liking the plane touched down and taxied off the main runway to a private hangar. She perfunctorily dismissed the pilot; the man was quite unused to the brusque treatment but given the fact that he just aided Superman in his escape and was unable to ever tell anyone about it he shrugged his shoulders and quietly exited the aircraft. Lois turned to her remaining companions.

"Al, I need you to go inside the terminal and rent a large van. Give a fake name and use cash. Be as calm and discreet about it as you can, then drive the van around here to the plane and back it up as close to the door as you can, ok? We'll be waiting for you." He nodded and opened up the hatch, also beating a hasty exit from the plane.

Lois faced Clarissa and looked her in the eye. "This isn't good…the exposure to the sunlight should have done _something_ to his system by now; elevated his heart rate or his temperature, or both, I don't know. We need to get him out of here quickly and to somebody who knows how to handle this situation better than I do."

"You mean like a Doctor?" she hesitantly posited.

"Ummmmm…not exactly. Anyhow, we need to get him out of here and into the back of the van the moment Al gets back here. We can't risk anyone seeing him and connecting him with this place…there are too many lives at stake."

Clarissa just nodded her head in agreement, not fully comprehending what Lois meant by the remark. She rolled up her sleeves and stood at the foot of Superman's gurney, preparing herself to carry him down the stairs once Al returned.

A little over an hour later Lois guided Al down a country lane toward an old-fashioned farmhouse situated amongst several empty fields. Both he and Clarissa stared at the name on the mailbox as they turned down the driveway: in plain black paint they distinctly read the name KENT. _What is she doing taking him to the home of her missing partner at the Planet?_ they asked each other with their eyes. Cautiously, Al slowed the vehicle to a stop in front of the homestead and an elderly woman came rushing down the steps. Lois pushed the back doors open and with Clarissa's help got the gurney out and back down on the ground in one piece.

Martha's face was red with crying and from standing outside in the cold waiting. She rounded the corner with the speed of someone nearly half her age and came to a screeching halt as she spied the unconscious figure before her. All else in the world was forgotten; she only had eyes for her son.

Her wailing started anew as she flung herself over Clark's exposed chest, sobbing loudly and crying out, "Oh my boy! My poor poor boy!!! Oh Clark, what did they do to you?!"

The realization that Superman and Clark Kent were one in the same dawned on both of the newcomers' countenances as they stared in wide-eyed wonder at the reunion of mother and son. Lois, meanwhile, tried her best to calm the hysterical woman and get them all safely into the house before the shock wore off and the questions started flying.

* * *

The bright light of his surroundings washed over him, forcing Clark into wakefulness. He came to while lying on his back, staring up at a familiar-looking crystalline ceiling. _I know this place…it looks like the Fortress, but there's something different…something about this place is all off…_ He tenderly propped himself up on his elbows, expecting a searing pain to rip through his body and instead discovered that his injuries were all healed. Clark also learned that he was no longer wearing the dirty clothes from his prison cell, but rather the gray suit of his ill-fated journey to Krypton, emblazoned with the seal of the house of El.

A hand reached out to help him to his feet, and Clark stared straight up at it's owner. His blue eyes grew large as he caught sight of the image of Jor-el standing over him.

"Come, Kal-el," he commanded, urging him to take his grip.

Clark grasped his hand and stood face to face with the man. "Father…?" he asked hesitantly, turning his gaze on his surroundings and trying to determine what exactly had happened. A fuzzy memory pushed it's way to the forefront of his mind…_Luthor…he had a gun…in the bunker…and I…oh no…_ Jor-el watched the emotions play out over his son's face as he drew his conclusions. "Father, am I dead?"

"No, you are not," he replied stiltingly.

"Then where am I? Why am I here? What happened to me?"

Jor-el looked upon him a moment longer before giving a disapproving shake of the head. Genetically there was no doubting his son's Kryptonian-ness, but his lack of understanding and of absolute mastery over his emotions proved him to be all too-human. Clark stared on quizzically as his biological father prepared to speak.

"You stand now in the house of El, on Krypton, as it was in the time before our planet's destruction. You are here, Kal-el, because under extreme duress you severed your link and your mind brought you to this place. As for what happened, only you know the full story; I am merely an observer in the tale."

Again Clark thought back to those last few moments in the bunker: the gun, the chaos, the shot being fired. "I…I thought I was dying. Lex Luthor had a gun with Kryptonite bullets…he was going to kill me."

"Yes, that is correct."

"But I still don't understand how I ended up here."

"As I stated before, Kal-el, you severed your link."

Clark cocked his head a little at the second mention of this unknown 'link'. "What exactly are you referring to?"

Jor-el sighed and hung his head at how little his son understood of Kryptonian physiology. "Did you not study the instructions your Mother and I left for your future edification in the crystals embedded in your ship?"

"I did, Father, as best I could; but the same man who tried to kill me today stole them from me. They were destroyed by him before I was able to fully complete my education."

"I see." Jor-el paused as he contemplated the malevolent character of the human known as Lex Luthor, and the part he played in his son's life. He drew a deep breath and carried on. "My Son, the Kryptonian race, although physically similar to that of the human race, was inherently superior in it's mental capacities. We were all born with the innate ability to control every facet of our physical, mental and emotional well-being, and it was a capability that was usually refined in the early stages of our physical growth. Sadly, your Mother and I did not have a chance to cultivate such control in you, Kal-el, but that does not mean that the ability did not exist within you; it did, and always will.

"There had been certain cases noted in the history of our people whereby a purposeful break from one or more aspects of their nature was accomplished; usually under circumstances of tremendous violence or grief—for, as enlightened as we were, there were still those in our society who took perverse pleasure in the harm of others."

"Such as General Zod."

"General Zod was precisely one such case. Many of his victims engaged in the same severance of the mind/body connection that you yourself employed today; of course, in each case the victims did succumb to Zod's ultimate design and did indeed die. Kal-el, Kryptonians would separate themselves only when faced with the prospect of a truly distressing experience; that way their physical self would suffer while wholly unconnected to the mental and emotional aspect of the self, allowing them to move on to the other realm with little pain. However, they rarely employed this practice given the effects it had on their familial survivors; the trauma of the severance would manifest itself in the loved ones left behind. The overwhelming sensation of grief would haunt the survivors for years after the disconnect of their loved one's link took place."

Jor-el stopped pacing. "Today you severed your connection in the belief that your death was a surety; it was not. Your body has survived. But your mind—your mind has transported you here, and only you know how to reconstitute the connection that was cut."

Clark was now pacing the room, his footsteps falling without echo in the cavernous chamber. He stopped and looked back into Jor-el's face. "What does this make you then? Are you a figment of my imagination?"

"No, I am a subconscious memory from your infancy, come forth to guide you to your rightful place."

"And what is my 'rightful place'?"

"That is for you to decide, my Son."

He resumed pacing and pondered over this new information further, before asking in a subdued voice, "Can I still die?"

Jor-el simply nodded his head in the affirmative.

* * *

_**Smallville, KS**_**, February 21, 2008. **It took a great deal of difficulty but Lois got Al to hide the van in the barn and finally got everyone back into the house. They situated Clark in his old room; it had the most sunlight exposure of the three bedrooms in the house, and Martha had equipped it with every available lamp at her disposal in preparation for her son's homecoming. She sat beside him now, focusing the direction of the artificial light over a particularly large bruise on the lower left side of his torso. Lois watched as the older woman forced the tears aside and focused on the task at hand. Both sets of eyes lingered on his bruised and battered body, each wondering how he had withstood the pain, before Lois silently backed out of the room to let Martha resume her work.

After helping to carry Superman, now revealed to be Clark Kent, up the stairs, the still-stunned Lt. Henrickson and Agent Woodrow sat down on the couch in the living room and stared dumbfounded into the vacant fireplace. Lois entered the room and beckoned them to follow her into the kitchen and out of Martha's hearing range. She walked over to the copper kettle and carried it to the sink, filling it with water before replacing it on the stove and settling herself at the table in-between them.

Al was the first to speak. "You knew then, about him, all this time? And yet you never said a word…"

"Yes, I've known about Clark's secret; I've known his secret this time since shortly before his abduction, and had he been able to walk out of there today under his own power I would have still kept his secret, even from the two of you who helped him most," Lois replied matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean 'this time'?" Agent Woodrow asked nervously, not sure if she could stand to hear the answer. Enough had transpired in the course of the last twelve hours to hold her over for a lifetime to come.

"I figured it out once before…" she paused a moment, thinking how best to phrase the time they had spent together all those years ago. "In the few days before General Zod and his people landed, Clark and I had been on assignment in Niagara Falls. I was on to him then, and I…well, I tricked him into telling me." She smiled at the memory, Clark having filled her in on the details the night of their reconciliation back in Metropolis…_"You know, Lois, if you were wrong, you would have killed Clark Kent." "With blanks?"_… She resumed her narrative. "Back then we had a brief relationship, but he only let me remember for a few days before taking it back, thinking it would help ease the pain I felt in the aftermath of the discovery and Earth's near destruction. He…he left for Krypton a month and a half later."

The older man sat there, his jaw squished to one side, obviously in deep thought. Clarissa took a moment to consider the timeline of things, wondering what about their relationship could cause Lois to be pained, when she suddenly realized that the sequence of events coincided with…

"OH!" the Special Agent exclaimed, clasping a hand over her mouth. She stared wide-eyed at Lois.

The woman in question looked Clarissa in the eyes and nodded. "Yes, during the course of those few days that we were together, Jason was conceived. Clark took my memories before either of us knew I was pregnant because he felt guilty; he felt he had let the whole world down as he focused on his happiness…_our_ happiness…and he couldn't do that again. And at the time I couldn't handle having to constantly share him with the world. When news of the discovery of Krypton broke he took his chance to get away and ease his heart break, while I remained here, oblivious to everything.

"Clarissa, you once asked me why _my_ son was targeted that day on the playground; it's because Luthor knew _our_ secret and used _our_ son as a sure-fire way to get Clark's attention."

"Oh My God!" Al cried out, catching up with them and recalling the little boy he'd met just over a week ago. _That child is Superman's son! _"Oh My God!" he said again, the realization hitting him in waves. The tea kettle piped up and momentarily stole their attention.

_This is too much for one day,_ Clarissa thought to herself as she gave Lois a haggard look. The other woman glanced back at her before calmly getting up to answer the kettle. She poured four cups of hot tea, placing two before her guests, one in front of her empty seat and bringing one up to Martha, allowing them time to digest the latest bombshell she'd dropped into their laps.

Lois stood in the doorway to Clark's bedroom and knocked on the door, a troubled and tear-streaked Martha looking back at her. She held the mug of tea out to the older woman who took it gratefully before turning back to her charge.

"Any change?"

"I think…" her fingers lightly traced the outer rim of the largest purple bruise. "I think it's gone down, ever so slightly. But we're talking centimeters here, nothing more. Lois, I've never seen him this weak before. Was he like this after New Krypton? I didn't get to see him until after it was all over…"

She sat on the opposite side of the bed from Martha and felt the helplessness exude off her, both of them staring worriedly at Clark's motionless form. "Yes…and no," she replied hesitantly. "He was in a coma, just like he is now, but something about this one doesn't quite feel the same. I can't tell if it's because of the prolonged exposure to the Kryptonite or something else, but it almost feels like he's deeper in this one somehow."

Martha bit her lip as she broke away from looking at Lois and stared at Clark's beaten figure. "Perhaps if I clean him up, help open up some of his pores, maybe that will allow him to get more energy from the light."

"What about his hair?" Lois ventured to ask. "He…he doesn't look very Clark-like with the hair…and the beard…"

She hadn't expected to hear it, but the older woman actually chuckled. She reached into the drawer of Clark's nightstand and pulled out an old Swiss Army Knife, switching out the blade and clutching a few strands of her son's hair in her grasp. The hair resisted the sharp edge.

"You named him the 'Man of Steel' for a reason, Lois…that extends to his hair too," she said, chuckling again.

"Oh great, another thing I have to look forward to with Jason," she replied sardonically.

"Hey! At least you'll have your own Kryptonian barber handy. When Clark was a boy his hair wasn't _completely_ invulnerable but it was very resistant, and normal scissors just wouldn't do the job, so…well, you try getting a small child of six to sit still long enough so you can get the sharpest pruning shears imaginable near his head for a trim! It wasn't easy, let me tell you…" The two of them were laughing so hard Martha nearly upset her mug of tea, and both had tears streaming down their face by the time they caught their breath again.

Inexplicably, Lois reached out a hand and placed it over Clark's heart, and she thought she felt it stir a little faster within his chest at her touch…_It's just wishful thinking, Lois, he'll come out of this in his own time._ His mother noted the gesture, and looked back at her in rapt attention. Lois shook her head. "Still the same."

Martha gave a small discouraged shake of her head. "Well I'll get him cleaned up and you see if our guests downstairs need anything." Lois got up and moved toward the door to do as she was bid. "Honey, are you sure? I mean, are you sure that we can trust them? I know it's too late to take it back but I still worry…"

"Yes, Martha, we can trust them. And I know Clark would agree with me if he could." She smiled down at his unresponsive figure, before hesitatingly quitting the room.


	46. Chapter 46

_**Smallville, KS,**_**February 21, 2008** "Mommy?" Jason's voice called out on the other end of the phone.

"Jason! Are you ok? What's wrong, where's Uncle Perry?" she asked all in one breath.

"He's in the kitchen, getting me a glass of ginger ale…"

"Are you not feeling well, Honey? Is it your stomach?"

"Mommy, I feel empty."

A puzzled look crossed her face. "Jason, Sweetie, I don't know what that means…now try telling me where it hurts…" she heard a muffled sound on the other end of the phone.

"Lois? Oh geez, I'm sorry he bothered you, I had everything under control…don't know how he got a hold of my cell phone though," Perry shot the boy a look as he handed him the glass and Jason attempted a smile, failing miserably.

"No, it's ok Perry, it isn't a problem. I take it you kept him home from school today, so what seems to be the matter?"

Jason sat in bed sipping his ginger ale while Perry moved out into the hall to continue the conversation.

"It's the darndest thing. Everything was fine last night, we ate dinner, he did his homework while I went over some paperwork from the office, and I put him to bed. Then he woke up crying and calling out for you around 6:30 this morning, all cold and sweaty for no apparent reason. I don't know what was wrong, but then an hour later he started bawling, saying that something was missing and that he was empty. Has anything like this ever happened to him before? I mean, I know he was sickly when he was younger, but I thought he'd outgrown all that this past year. Anyhow, I think I've handled everything well enough, but if you could give me some insight I'd appreciate it."

"Hmm?" she asked absently. Lois had tuned Perry out, and instead was focusing on the progression of Jason's 'illness'…_the sweat started at 6:30 and he started crying at 7:30 AM_..."Perry, you said he complained of feeling empty at 7:30 your time, correct?"

"What? Of course _my time,_ Lois, what other time would I mean?"

"Sorry; I mean you were talking Eastern Time and not Central Time, right?"

"Yes, Eastern, but what does this have to do with anything?"

_7:30 Eastern, 6:30 Central…Jason…Clark…oh no… _"Nothing, Chief, never mind. Listen, would you mind putting Jason back on the phone for a moment and letting me speak to him in private?"

She could hear him grumbling unintelligibly under his breath, before saying "Just because I'm doing you this favor doesn't mean I'm going soft, Lane, so don't go getting any ideas when you get back to the office…" he handed the phone to Jason and watched him for a moment before stepping back out into the hall.

"Mommy?"

"Hi, Baby. Listen, I have some good news for you…we found your Father!"

"REALLY! YOU MEAN FOR REALLY REAL THIS TIME?!! WHERE ARE YOU? WHEN CAN I SEE HIM? ARE YOU GUYS COMING HOME NOW?" It was the perkiest he'd been since that morning's episode.

"Shh shh shh Baby, slow down, try and stay quiet—we don't want your Uncle Perry to hear you. We've got to keep this a secret, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"We're at your Grandmother's house in Smallville. Jason, I think I know why you're not feeling well. Your Dad isn't feeling well right now either, and we're out here trying to help him get better, and what I want you to do is call me if you start to feel better or worse, ok? The minute you feel any different I want you to let me know, can you do that for me? Jason?"

He nodded solemnly at the phone, trying to stay quiet as his Mother had instructed.

"Jason? I can't hear you. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes Mom."

"That's my good boy. I've got to go help your Father now and we'll see you as soon as we can, ok?"

"Ok," he said semi-dejectedly, wishing he could see his Daddy too.

"I love you." She blew a kiss to him over the phone.

"I love you too."

Lois stood halfway down on the stairs and hung up the phone. _Clark, Jason knows something's wrong. He feels it. You have to come back to him, you have to…you have to come back to us… _She continued on down the stairs, hoping he'd heard her silent plea.

* * *

Clark looked around the room once more, letting his Father's words sink in…_I can still die…_He squeezed his eyes shut tight and balled his hands into fists, physically _willing_ himself back to his Earthly existence.

"It is not that easy, Kal-el," Jor-el replied, moving toward one side of the room. He stopped a few feet away from the wall and a crystalline table and set of chairs emerged out of the groundwork. _Just like my control panel in the Fortress,_ Clark mused. _Of course it's just like in the Fortress, this is Krypton!_ He strode over and took the vacant seat.

"Why did you sever your link, my Son?"

"Father, I told you, I didn't know what I was doing…it all happened so fast…"

Jor-el didn't wait for him to finish. "Did you truly believe that you were going to die?"

Clark looked up and met his eyes a little shamefully. Quietly, he replied, "Yes."

"Is that what you still wish?" Jor-el arched an eyebrow at him.

"NO!"

"Very well. But why? Clearly I misjudged the human race when I sent you there, for them to have forced you into such an extreme position…"

Now it was Clark's turn to interrupt. "Father, in the darkest hour of my despair I briefly felt that way too. But of all the millions and billions of people inhabiting the planet Earth, only a handful deigned to imprison me so cruelly; and if I know anything about the human race, I know that those that brought about my freedom far exceed those that sought my destruction. In my years on Earth I have followed the legacy you left me and have led the people by example, by using my gifts to aid others, and my influence is spreading. I know that more good can be done if I'm allowed to go back."

"Allowed?" Jor-el asked. "Kal-el, your fate rests with you; I do not possess the power to either acquiesce to or reject your petition to return to your physical existence." Clark let out a sigh, thinking he had found a loophole where there was none. His father continued. "A moment ago you spoke of the legacy we left you. You claim to have adhered to it, but that is not the case. You have already interfered in the realm of human history more times than I care to count. And the connections you have forged!" He stood up quickly, momentarily letting the disappointment flash across his features before settling himself down again, his emotions kept tightly under wraps. "Do not let yourself believe that just because you call me _Father,_ that I do not know in your heart that that moniker is permanently affixed to another."

Father and Son stared at one another for several minutes, letting the resentment and frustration linger in the air around them. Clark looked at Jor-el from across the table.

"You're right; Jonathan Kent was my Father, and I did forge a connection with him as well as with my Mother, his wife, Martha. You and Lara gave me life; you spared me from our planet's destruction and left a legacy for me to carry out on Earth, but when I arrived it was the Kent's who taught me the value of that life. They loved me and helped me to adapt, and in time they shared the weight of the burden that is my secret. It was they who taught me how to handle my abilities, and it was they who consoled me every time I was unable to save a life, every time I felt that I had failed you in my duties.

"And Lois? Surely you believe that my connection with _her_ has interfered, especially in light of Jason's existence. Father, Lois Lane_completes_ me. Her love for me holds me closer to my adopted home world, and I love her too. I love her heart, I love her mind, I love her soul. I have loved her with every fiber of my being since I first set eyes on her. The only selfish thing I've ever wanted in my life is her. I wanted to build a life with her all those years ago, only to have you tell me I couldn't have it both ways. Foolishly, stupidly, I gave her up—made her forget the bond that we shared—in order to answer your calling, and in the process I lost precious time forging a bond with our miracle, our son, Jason.

"But can't you see? The very mission you sent me on compelled me to interfere with human history! How, as an infant, was I supposed to have survived without them? How was I supposed to help guide them if I did not understand them? You instructed me to be a catalyst for change, yet you yourself did not understand how that change was to be wrought. If I did not adopt their customs, their lifestyle, their emotional interpersonal ways, then how did you expect me to succeed? And why would you spare me from Krypton's destruction if I was never meant to live a life that was truly my own?!"

Jor-el got up from his seat and turned his back on his son, crossing his arms before him as he contemplated Clark's words. A long, awkward pause fell over them before Clark sighed and said, "Jor-el, you do not know how hard it has been to disappoint you even now, thousands of years after your death."

At that his biological father spun around and spoke in the most impassioned tone Clark had ever heard emanating from his lips. "You have never been a disappointment! A father can only hope for his child's happiness and prosperity! It is true, your Mother and I sent you to Earth with a mission, but first and foremost we sent you with our love and the hope of saving you from our fate!" The elder Kryptonian had tears in his eyes. "Kal-el, my Son, there was no time—no time to think things through, to plan properly for your departure. I see now the folly of my thinking."

It was thirty-three years in the making, but for the first time both father and son truly understood one another. Clark got up and embraced him in human fashion, with Jor-el awkwardly returning the hug. He soon held his son out at arm's length.

"You have to go back. Your son needs you, he knows you are gone. You have to go back"

"I know."

"It will not be easy."

"Father, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the things worth having in life never come easily."

* * *

_**Smallville, KS,**_**February 21 to March 1, 2008. **With the help of the local authorities in Chicago, news of Superman's escape had been held from the public for almost twenty-four hours. When the story did break Lois' cell phone refused to stop ringing; everyone sought her out for the first post-abduction Superman exclusive. She was sorely tempted to throw the device in a pile of cow manure, but instead flicked it off after making sure Jason had his Grandmother's home phone number.

Perry White was perhaps the only newspaper Editor in Metropolis…no, on the entire PLANET…who didn't clamor for Lois Lane's attention. He alone knew why she had been traveling to Chicago, and even though his newshound's instincts begged to hear the tale, he wisely kept his mouth shut and gave his star reporter her space. Perry had been in the game long enough to know when to leave a good story alone…_because that's when it comes to you_, he mused as he watched the feeding frenzy unfold on the TV in his office. He'd spoken with Lois only briefly since that day Jason had called her, and she got in touch with him to let him know she'd be incommunicado for awhile and to see if he could watch her son a little longer then originally planned.

"Anything to help you help the Big Guy…besides, I think Richard will be coming back in a week or so and he'll be staying with me, so he can help me watch Jason for as long as you need."

"What? Richard's back? Is he alright?"

"He's fine, Lois, just a little war-weary."

"Oh…" he could hear some noise in the background partially claiming her attention. "Sorry, Perry, I have to go…"

"Don't worry about it, we'll see you when you get back."

"Thanks. And Chief?"

"Yes?"

"Just thanks."

"You already said that."

"I know I did, I meant thanks for Jason and thanks for…you know…"

"Oh, right. Don't mention it. In fact, if Miranda from the _Messenger_ gets in touch with you, we never had this conversation; I'd love to watch her get her knickers in a twist when she thinks she's out-scooped me!"

Lois scoffed, "Please! Like I'd _ever_ accept a phone call from anyone at that rag! Honestly, Chief…ok, look, I've really got to go, but I'll call you when I can."

Perry hung up the phone and couldn't stop beaming; the old Lois was coming back.

* * *

Metropolis had all but closed down the day the news of Superman's escape was disclosed, and impromptu parties were being held in the streets in celebration. Jimmy Olsen only half-heartedly joined in on the fun in addition to photographing the festivities for the _Planet_, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. It's not that he wasn't glad that Superman was alive and well, but he was beginning to lose hope about his friend Clark Kent, who had also been missing for the last six months. Week after week Jimmy called the Metropolis Police Department to see if there were any new leads in the case, yet nothing had turned up in all that time; it was as if Clark had been plucked off the face of the Earth by God himself.

Jimmy aimed the camera at a batch of revelers in the streets and scanned their features before snapping a shot, hoping to catch a glimpse of his missing friend. Of course, others at the _Planet_ missed Clark and worried about him too, but not like Jimmy. _Even Lois has been so preoccupied with finding Superman, and she and Clark were practically inseparable before he disappeared!_ He dwelt a moment longer on Lois' seeming betrayal before a thought struck him. _What if she had a dual motive for working with the Task Force? Find Superman so he can help find Clark…There wouldn't be anyone better to pick up a cold trail than Superman, that's for sure…_ The gears of his mind churned, beginning to accept the theory he posited…_Wow…I knew she was smart, but wow…_

He felt his face grow flush with excitement and anticipation at the Man of Steel's contribution to the search for Clark Kent. _Now all he has to do is get better…well, here's to you, Superman, and you too, Clark, wherever you both are!_ And with that thought Jimmy abandoned his work and joined in the dancing and cheering in the streets of Metropolis until early the following morning.

* * *

As soon as word of Superman's liberation hit the news waves Chloe felt the adrenaline surge through her and she itched to get to the Kent Farm, even if she had to run the five miles barefoot in the snow to get there. When she_was_ finally able to tear herself away from work without arousing anyone's suspicion she bolted to the homestead and burst through the front door, only to be greeted by two very fatigued officers.

"Chloe?" Martha's hesitant voice called out from her vantage point on the stairs. She had come down to see to the needs of Lt. Henrickson and Agent Woodrow to find the frazzled young woman standing just inside the front entryway.

Upon hearing her name she looked over at the older woman on the steps with tears brimming in her eyes. "Is it true? Is he…?"

"He's upstairs, but Chloe, you should know…" but she was already taking the steps two at a time, bounding into his room with an energy that startled the exhausted Lois who was keeping vigil.

"CLARK!" she screamed as the door flung back. But instead of finding him alert in his bed, Chloe found him tucked under the sheets in a state of unconsciousness. The tears welled up in her eyes as she saw the bruises and cuts on his exposed arms and upper torso.

It took time for her to find her voice, giving Lois a chance to wipe her own tears from her eyes. Lois' feisty spirit may have returned to her in the wake of Clark's homecoming but the tears wouldn't stop until she knew he was truly alright.

Hesitantly Chloe asked, "What…what's wrong with him?"

"We don't know. Something happened in the bunker when they rescued him. Al and I had to wait as the S.W.A.T. team entered, and Clarissa went with them. She said that when they got to Clark, Luthor had a gun aimed at him…and…and it all happened so fast." Chloe gasped as Lois struggled to continue. "But the next moment Luthor was dead on the ground and Clark was like this…"

"So he wasn't hurt then? At least, not…"

"No, he wasn't," Lois answered quickly.

She took a step towards the sleeping figure of her friend and sat down in Martha's recently vacated chair.

"And Agent Woodrow and Lt. Henrickson, they know his secret now too, don't they?" It came out more as a statement than a question.

"Yes, they do," Lois replied, pausing to gauge Chloe's reaction. For the longest time the young woman had been the only one in Clark's confidence, the only other living soul who knew, aside from Martha, and Lois wasn't sure if she'd accept the widening circle of those let in on this all-important secret.

She finally spoke. "That's good. He'd want them to know, after all they did to help him." Lois couldn't help but let out a small relieved sigh. Chloe glanced over at her friend's motionless form.

"Lois, I know this is going to sound weird, but something about this doesn't feel right."

She cocked an eyebrow at her. "How do you mean?"

"Well…this is going to come out wrong, but bear with me here. You may have noticed this, but Clark…well, he's always had this sort of aura about him. But looking at him right now, being here and physically able to touch him, it's like his aura's missing."

"I know." Chloe looked up quickly, shocked by Lois' swift agreement. She waited for more. "Our son sensed it too. He was in Metropolis and didn't know what was going on, but about an hour before we got to Clark, Jason woke up out of a sound sleep with a cold sweat. Then, at the same time the S.W.A.T. team burst in, Jason started crying and complaining of feeling 'empty'. There hasn't been any change in either of them since then."

"Wow."

"Tell me about it."

"And I thought my life got weirder after _I_ found out about Clark."

That phrase sent Lois over the edge; she howled with laughter in a way that she hadn't laughed in months. Soon Chloe joined in and five minutes later the two of them were gasping for breath. Each clutched one of Clark's hands, subliminally hoping to force their high spirits into his own weakened one.

* * *

Clark persisted in his vegetative state while Martha, Lois, Al, and Clarissa took turns watching over him. Chloe still had to keep up appearances in Town, but came by as often as she could.

"Guys, Smallville is just that, a small place. If I all of a sudden stop working and devote an ungodly amount of time here, people will get suspicious. They'll think Clark's back, and then they'll want to come over and see him and it will just lead to more questions than we have answers for right now. It's better to keep him here quietly until he wakes up and then take things from there. I'll come over whenever I can to help you all out, but this is how things have to be for the time being; it's what needs to be done to keep Clark's secret."

Lois had taken the nighttime shift the evening of February 29th into March 1st while the others in the house tried to get some sleep. She'd turned off the lamps in Clark's room for a short while around midnight, the heat radiating from them making her drowsy…as it was, she still managed to fall asleep in her chair when he found his way back.

The shaking was slight at first, just an involuntary flick of the wrist or a small toss of the head. Soon it became more pronounced, until his whole body was seizing, causing the bed to scrape along the floor. Lois opened her eyes at the trembling just as the sensation stopped, and Clark sat full upright in bed staring wide-eyed in front of him and breathing heavily.

A yelp escaped from her lips before she could form even half a coherent thought. "CLARK!"

He jerked his head in her direction, his eyes still having trouble adjusting to the darkness, and his voice filled with terror as he spoke. "LOIS!?!?! Wh-what are you doing here?! How did they get you?! Where's Jason?! Oh God, Lois, we have to get you out of here!!!" He made to reach over to where she was sitting, as her shock at seeing him awake rendered her incapable of refuting his assumption that he was still being held captive.

Ever the light sleeper, Al heard the commotion coming from upstairs and was the first to reach the bedroom where the recuperating Man of Steel lay. Without a second thought he opened the door, flicked on the light switch, and called out to Lois. "Hey, what's going on in here?"

The sudden flood of light blinded the pair in the room, and Clark's deep voice reverberated off the walls as he shouted, "**YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER, LUTHOR! DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!**" he reached a hand out and dragged Lois' chair behind where he sat on the bed, shielding her with his broad torso. Al was about to respond when he felt a burning sensation in his lower left pant leg, just as Clarissa and Martha came running down the hall.

"AHH! FIRE! FIRE! HE SET ME ON FIRE!!!" The older man screamed in horror, jumping down the hallway. Clarissa grabbed a nearby pitcher of water from the top of Clark's bureau and doused the small flames licking up her colleague's pajama pants.

Martha held her breath as she stared at her wild-haired child with flaming eyes. There was no mistaking that it was her son, and yet his behavior was so unlike the boy that she and Jonathan had raised.

"Clark?" she asked quietly, cowering in the doorway and fearing another outburst.

His sight was fuzzy but clearing and he began to recognize the familiar trappings of his room. "Mom?" he asked in a shy voice, not trusting whether this was a cruel hallucination fate had dealt him.

"**OH CLARK!**" she crossed the room and flung her arms around his chest, sobbing vehemently. Lois watched the exchange with eyes full of amazement and fear as Clark slowly realized he was truly and finally free. The phone in the hall rang and she got up to answer it, not wanting to break the spell of the scene in front of her.

Before she could take another step forward Clark grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the embrace he shared with his mother; it was the most forceful Lois had ever seen him in either persona. She clutched him back with all the strength that she had, as if he were liable to take off if she dared release him, and let the tears flow freely down her face to commingle with his own sobs of relief.

Clarissa and Al stood awkwardly in the doorway, feeling like intruders on this tender family moment. Downstairs the answering machine picked up the call, and all five of them heard Jason's loud whispers on the other line. "Mom? Mommy? I feel all better…"


	47. Chapter 47

_**Smallville, KS,**_** March 1, 2008.** His body was wide awake; he refused to sleep any longer and adamantly demanded to be allowed out of the bed.

"But are you sure, Son? You've been out of it for quite awhile…" Martha asked cautiously.

He turned to look at her as he gingerly swung his legs around the side of the bed. "And just how long exactly has that been?"

The double-sided question hung in the air, as no one felt brave enough to answer it. Sensing his mounting frustration, Clarissa stepped forward and proffered a response.

"Sir, you were comatose for ten days," she said, her voice meek and barely audible. He stared at her hard for a moment, and she feared his deep blue eyes would bore holes in her forehead as they had done a moment ago with Al's pant leg. Recognition finally dawned on his face.

"Special Agent Woodrow?"

"Yes Sir," she replied, adopting an at-ease stance as if she were at roll call, her bravado returning.

Clark turned to face Al, "…and you are?"

"Lieutenant Albert Henrickson with the Metropolis Police Department, at your service, Sir." He too took a stiff backed stance at being acknowledged by the Man of Steel.

Clark turned around to look at Lois, who was still standing on the other side of his bed. "Do they…?"

"Yes, Clark, they know. They're part of the team that helped rescue you, and the only ones who know your secret."

A mixture of gratitude and apology swept across his features as he faced the two newcomers again. "This isn't enough…it'll never be enough…but thank you, thank you so much…" Clarissa thought he was on the verge of tears again but Al discerned that he was trying to stand up to thank them properly; not only was he trying, but what was more than unusual was that he was failing. Clark's arms wobbled at the effort of trying to push himself up out of bed.

He shot a nervous look at his mother without sweeping the hair off his face. "Mom, what's wrong with me?"

Martha gazed at her son with a look of helplessness and despair before replying, "I don't know". Clark could see her concern for him mounting so he tried to set her at ease, forcing his features into a stoic expression, before she diverted everyone's attention by offering up the biggest country breakfast the four of them had ever seen. She leaned forward and took Clark's face in her hands, giving him several more hearty kisses before hastily beating a path to the kitchen, wiping the tears still pouring down her cheeks. Clark sought an explanation from Lois while struggling to get upright.

"Why am I so weak? You said I've been unconscious for ten days and now that the Kryptonite's gone I should be fine, right?"

Lois knew Clark better than anyone else in the room and she knew that beneath his authoritative tone was a masked plea for reassurance. Her heart ached knowing that she couldn't supply it; his physiology's capabilities were beyond all their comprehension.

She spurred herself into action instead, while replying, "I don't know, Clark, but I do have some theories—but what do you say we get you up and out of bed and talk downstairs, ok? Al, help me get him up on his feet from the left side, and Clarissa, if you wouldn't mind bracing him from behind..."

Clark nodded in agreement and Al stepped forward to lend him his shoulder while Lois walked around and took his other side. He grunted from the effort of standing up straight and taking a few tentative steps, then he turned to Al, saying, "Sorry about the…you know…" while mimicking the motion of lowering his absent glasses off his face.

Not knowing that Clark Kent usually wore glasses Al gave him a confused look before remembering his burnt trousers and saying "Oh yeah, right! Don't mention it." Clark smiled at him gratefully.

The exertion of getting from the upstairs bedroom to the kitchen took twenty minutes from start to finish, with the four of them starting and stopping every couple of steps so Clark could catch his breath. Lois had never seen anyone work so hard just to move, and it pained her that she had to witness this in someone who was widely regarded as the strongest man the Earth had ever seen. By the time they got to the table his knees were shaking so badly they could have cracked nuts, and she saw the aggravated look on his sweat-dampened face.

Attempting to diffuse the situation she sashayed in front of his seat at the table, pulling the collar up on the bathrobe Martha had lent her before glancing coyly over her shoulder and saying, "Why, Mr. Kent, I only ever thought _YOU_ made _ME_ go weak at the knees!" She flashed him a wicked grin which elicited a small smile from him. Martha chuckled.

"Ok you two, enough flirting, it's time to eat up," she said as she laid a veritable feast before them all with no signs of stopping the cooking anytime soon. The worn kitchen table was littered with pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, breakfast sausage, toast, oatmeal, cold cereal, orange juice and milk.

"You know, Mrs. Kent, you keep feeding me this way and my doctor's going to have to have a few words with you when I get back to Metropolis," Al piped up from his seat as he tucked a napkin under his chin.

"Don't you worry, I'll make sure you work it all off around the farm tomorrow," she said laughingly.

Clarissa could tell that the mood in the house was the lightest it had been in months, but she sensed that it wouldn't last long by the way Clark was brooding in his chair. Martha soon came to join them, and Lois heaped up Clark's plate as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be doing. Everyone dug in silently, but they all watched him out of the corner of their eyes.

He'd been used to eating with his hands for so long that the fork felt awkward in his grasp. He scooped up a mouthful of eggs and shakily brought it to his mouth, while some of the cumbersome burden fell off the utensil entirely and onto his lap. Clark tried again and again, accumulating more food on him than in him; he eventually flung the fork exasperatedly at the table, and they saw the imprint of his grip in the twisted metal.

"How about you try some toast instead, Dear?" Martha proposed in an overly sweet tone, passing him the plate as she spoke. Clark took a few pieces and dutifully munched on the buttered wheat bread with a dark look on his face. They had all settled back into their breakfast when he attempted to speak.

He cleared his throat ominously. "So, who's going to tell me what happened and how long I've really been gone?"

They stared around at one another, shooting guilty looks as neither one wanted to meet his gaze. Clark slammed his right hand down on the table angrily, tacitly demanding answers. Martha had never seen him lose control of his temper like this before and her heart rate quickened…_Just how much have those men changed my son?_ Lois soothingly placed her hand on top of his.

"Clark, you were taken on September 6, 2007. You were rescued on February 21, 2008, and it's now March 1st. Lex Luthor and Nick Finneran had you imprisoned for almost 170 days."

His mouth fell open in shock. "No, that can't be right…it can't be…"

* * *

The four of them took turns answering Clark's myriad questions, moving from the kitchen to the living room as the sun came up. Martha sat in an old armchair opposite her son, refusing to look away from his scruffy image for fear that she'd wake up and find his return was just a cruel dream. As the hours pressed on she propped her head up with her hands, elbows resting on her knees, occasionally succumbing to slumber only to snap herself out of it and start staring at him again.

Clark held up a hand as Al began explaining how they coordinated their efforts in Chicago. The clock in the kitchen informed them that it was now 7 am. "I think I've heard enough for now. You all look exhausted, and I should probably try and get outside and get some sun. Lois, if you wouldn't mind…" he gestured helplessly toward her, seeking her shoulder. Al made a move forward to help too.

"No, that's alright. I think I can make it mostly under my own power from here. Mom, would you mind handing me my jacket? I think I left it in the closet out in the hall last winter." She went to retrieve the item. "Thanks," he said as she slipped it over his broad shoulders. He and Lois shuffled toward the front door while the rest momentarily watched from the living room before heading back to their beds.

There was only a light dusting of snow on the ground as they ambled across the porch to the swing where Lois first sat just a few short months ago…_Before all this ever happened, _she reminded herself. _Before I even knew who he really was. How things have changed!_ Clark gingerly lowered himself down, and she took the seat opposite him, wrapping her own coat around her a little tighter. She wanted to curl into him but could tell by his disposition that it wasn't what he wanted. In fact, his very body language seemed to repel her away. They stared out at the farm in silence.

"So what aren't you telling me?" he finally asked.

She looked into his face. "What do you mean?"

"Lois, please. I may not be myself right now but I'm observant enough to know that you're all omitting details from your story. I was a reporter after all…"

"You still are…"

"We'll see about that."

Lois perked up from her end of the swing. "Now what's that supposed to mean?" she asked boldly.

"Nothing, it meant nothing," he replied a little too quickly for her liking.

"Now let's talk about who's omitting what…"

His impatience finally boiled over. "Lois, PLEASE!"

She involuntarily flinched. He'd been short of temper and lashing out like that all morning and she'd chalked it up to his aggravation over his absentee abilities, but to be on the receiving end of his wrath, even verbally, shook her up a little.

His contrite blue eyes sought hers. "I'm sorry…it's just…I'm just…I'm just so _ANGRY_! Those men took _so much_ from me, from us, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it! I still can't! I've never felt so helpless before!!!" He turned away from her, his face going red with rage before painfully letting loose a primordial cry. "**AAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!**"

He swung his fist down on the arm of the swing, the force of the blow knocking it off it's hinges and sending the pair of them crashing to the floor.

Lois and Clark winced as they struggled to get their wind back, their legs splayed out in front of them on the porch. He turned to her, looking extremely alarmed at the damage he'd inadvertently caused. "Oh my God, are you alright?! Lois, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that! I don't know how it happened…"

"I'm alright, Clark; it's going to take a little more than a tantrum from you to knock me out."

He grimaced at the way she labeled his actions as if he were little older than Jason…_Jason…where is he? _"Lois, where's our son?"

"He's with Perry and Richard in Metropolis. When we left for Chicago, I didn't want to tell him why I was going in case I wasn't able to bring you home with me. Back in November, when we came so close to finding you the first time only to have it come to nothing…he was just so heartbroken, we all were, and I knew I couldn't do that to him again. All Jason knew was that I was working with people in another state to try and find you." She stopped and took a deep breath. "He knew you were gone, Clark. I mean, not that he didn't know you were gone all these months, but when you fell into your coma, or whatever state it was you were in upstairs before, Jason _felt _it, he felt it all the way from Metropolis. That's why he called this morning, because he knew you were back."

He nodded, knowing that she wanted some kind of explanation from him as to what had transpired between father and son. "I wish I could tell you how he felt what he felt, Lois, but the truth is that there's a lot about me that I don't know and never will, which means that Jason will never know…" his voice trailed off for a moment as a hazy memory came to the forefront of his mind.

"What is it?"

His biological father stood before him in his mind's eye, talking about a link severance while looking disappointedly at him, then they spoke about a legacy before coming to some sort of understanding and embracing in human fashion. Clark couldn't place where these images had come from; all remembrances from his time with Jor-el while in the coma had vanished the instant he woke up.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. She let it pass. He cleared his throat before asking, "So, you and Richard…?"

Lois was appalled at the audacity and implications of his unfinished question, and she refused to hold her fiery spirit in check in front of him any longer. "_HOW DARE YOU!?!_ You think that just because you go and get yourself abducted for six months that I'm going to go running back into the arms of my ex!!! I practically KILLED myself working to try and find you, gave up writing at the _Daily Planet_ just so I could search for you, and you think that at the first sign of trouble I'd run back to RICHARD?!?! I can't believe you'd even think that! And to answer your question, no, I haven't even seen him since last summer; he just got back from working in Iraq while I was out here with you and he's staying with Perry until he figures out what to do next. And I'm NOT going to keep Jason from him; he's still a father figure and I want him to continue to be involved in our son's life." She glared at him, daring Clark to contradict her.

He was relieved at the fact that she had stuck by him all these months, and yet he continued to push the envelope further.

"The last time I left…"

"The last time you left, Clark?!? The last time you left, you left of your own accord! The last time you left you left me an amnesiac! The last time you left neither one of us knew I was pregnant! So what else about the last time that you left do you want to discuss?!"

He smiled a wan smile. "I'm glad you're mad at me."

"You're damn right I'm mad at you! How dare you accuse me of running back to my ex after all this…wait, what? What did you just say?"

"I said I'm glad you're mad at me."

"You must have taken more hits to the head than we all thought. Why are you glad I'm mad at you?"

"Because it makes things seem more normal. Ever since I woke up, everyone's been tiptoeing around me. At least you're still willing to treat me the same way as you always have."

She sat there contemplating a few choice words she'd like to deliver when the wind picked up and she noticed how badly he was shivering, in spite of the warm jacket around him. She watched as his teeth chattered violently.

"I-I don't under…understand…wh-what's wrong with m-me?" he said, the cold suddenly gnawing more noticeably at his extremities.

Her resentment abated somewhat. "I won't claim to be an authority on all things Kryptonian, but I think that your body is having a difficult time adjusting to the non-Kryptonite environment."

He looked at her quizzically, his mind not fully comprehending what she was saying as his body was too busy trying to keep warm. She got to her feet and lent him a hand to help him up but he ignored her and crawled toward the porch railing, pulling himself up from there. She pressed on.

"Ok, let's look at it this way. For thirty some odd years your body has had time to adjust to a Kryptonite-free world. Your powers have expanded. Then, with the appearance of the Kryptonite, they contracted. Now when you were imprisoned, Luthor and Finneran had you constantly exposed to the stuff; your body had to adapt to the 'poisoning', and even though you haven't been near it in the last ten days, I think your body is still trying to re-adjust..."

"B-b-but how come I've…been able to use my h-h-heat…vision and my s-s-strength in the last…f-few hours?" he asked, impertinently cutting her off.

"I was about to say, I think that your powers returned to you when you needed them today because of the adrenaline running through your system. Now tell me, what were you thinking when you used your heat vision on Al?"

He clung to the porch beam and reflected back to the moment shortly after he first woke up. "I t-thought you were t-there…in the cell, with me…and t-that he was L-Luthor…I just wanted to g-get you out of t-there, I didn't want him to h-hurt you…" he replied, teeth still chattering.

"And your body kicked into overdrive. What about now, when you broke the swing?"

"I was t-thinking about everything t-they took away…e-everything I m-missed…Jason's birthday, T-Thanksgiving, your b-birthday, Christmas…the first t-time I wasn't present b-because I was on a f-fool's errand, but this t-time…I wanted to b-be there…"

"I know, and you said so yourself, you were angry. You were mad enough just now to force the adrenaline through your system and you smashed the swing down. You need extensive time to heal, Clark; your system needs to re-acclimate itself to the yellow sun and away from the influences of the Kryptonite. I know you're frustrated but you need to be patient, especially more so with your powers fluxing in and out like they are."

He sighed and watched his smoky breath bounce about on the wind, trying to ignore the cold that was biting into him as Lois offered her his shoulder. "Let's get you inside and back to bed. We'll turn the lamps up on full and hopefully that'll warm you up a bit.

Clark reluctantly supported himself on her shoulder and answered her with only a nod; the sun he had hoped to find solace in was overpowered by the bitter cold air of the Kansas winter, so they hobbled back into the farm house that would protect them both from it's icy cold blast.


	48. Chapter 48

_**Smallville, KS**_**, March 1, 2008.** Chloe had come by later on in the day after Clark first woke up and spent some time talking to him alone in his room where he was surrounded by the lamps. She came down into the kitchen where Lois, Martha and Clarissa were sitting around holding onto steaming mugs of coffee and chatting quietly.

Martha got up to fetch another cup as Chloe sat down with a peculiar look on her face.

"What's wrong?" Lois ventured to ask. Chloe took a sip of her coffee before spitting out what was on her mind.

"It's just that, well, he's still not Clark." Martha averted her gaze to her coffee cup as Chloe hastened to add, "I'm not just talking about his powers either. I mean, yes, that is a part of it, but what's more is his behavior. He's so much more _emotional_ than I've ever seen him; I'm used to Clark keeping his feelings in check but he's just so sullen and irate…he's never acted like this before, and I've known him for years!"

Clarissa surprised them all by speaking first. "Well he has been through quite a trauma, and just because he's Superman doesn't mean that he's going to handle the aftermath of it very well." She stopped and the other three women stared at her as she thought for a moment before continuing. "Look at it this way; physically you'll all be able to chart his progress as he recovers from the last six months, but emotionally? Emotionally no one can really say; not even the best therapists in the world could tell you how he's going to handle the fall out from all this in the coming weeks, months or even years. That's the nature of Post Traumatic Stress—no one knows." She took another deep breath.

"We're all used to seeing how stoic Sup—I mean, Clark, is in the midst of chaos and danger, but we forget that every accident he's seen has effected him on an emotional level too. However, being who he is and doing what he does he's always been able to keep those emotions in check so that they wouldn't get the better of him. This time…well, this time he lost control of his whole life! That would unravel the most well-balanced person out there, _especially_ a super-man, so he's going to lash out, he's going to get angry, and we're _all_ going to have to be there for him and support him until he finds his way back. It's the only way he'll find some semblance of normalcy after all he's been through."

Martha looked over at the young Agent briefly before asking the question on everyone's mind. "Yes, but _will he_ find his way back? Will he ever be our Clark again?"

"No," Clarissa responded point blank.

They all stared at her wide-eyed.

"Listen to me; the Clark Kent you knew before disappeared that day on the playground at Donner Elementary. He's gone, he'll never come back. You can't UNDO what's been done to him over the last several months. No one will ever know what it was like for him being imprisoned for all that time, having to do the things they forced him to do just to survive, and it's apparent to me that he's having an extremely difficult time coping with it himself. But I think that in time you will get a close approximation of the man you once knew back—with the support of family and friends I believe that you will get some parts of the Clark Kent you all know and love back."

Lois nodded mutely in her seat; it was as much as she had expected, but hearing the words said out loud by a professional who had seen the likes of this too much in her career made it all the more real. Chloe sat whimpering silently in her chair at the news and Martha rubbed the back of her hand soothingly, trying to reassure her son's friend as much as herself while she stared vacantly ahead of her at the discouraging news. Suddenly a creaking sound could be heard on the stairway, and they all got up and moved out into the hallway to see a fully dressed Al and Clark coming down the stairs. The four women looked up at their descending figures anxiously.

"What?!" Al barked at them. "The guy just wanted some fresh air, geez!" The older man helped the younger one to the door, where they collected their winter jackets and trudged outside as the others retreated back to the kitchen to give them their space.

The two men made it to the fence railing a short walk away from the porch and Clark grasped at it while Al stood opposite him, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Clark felt a minute amount of his strength returning, but he was still unable to support himself alone on his own two feet and he felt badly for transferring the bulk of his weight to the middle-aged Lieutenant.

When he was no longer winded Al took a good long look at the Man of Steel's profile. Clark stood wearing a black winter jacket, blue jeans and work boots, and was slightly hunched over the railing that was helping to keep him upright. His back was to the house and now that he was out of sight of the women he let his face cloud over with resentment, aggravation and guilt.

"Huh," Al snorted, his breath fogging in front of him.

Clark turned to face him, not bothering to check his emotions. "Come again?"

"Nothin', I was just thinking…when Lois first had us bring you here, I thought to myself 'No way are we going to be able to hide this guy! He'll stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of all those cornfields!' But now that I see you here it seems so…so…_normal_."

He grimaced at the words. "Well I was _raised _here; I spent nearly twenty years of my life here, so for me it _is_ normal."

Al raised his hands in surrender and backed away. "Hey now, I didn't mean any offense, I'm just surprised is all. I mean, knowing what I know now…"

Clark hung his head even lower. "You're right, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just—I'm not really myself," he let loose a sigh. "And being reminded of how different I am, even inferentially…well, it's always bugged me. I always tried so hard to fit in."

They stood there in awkward silence, looking out over the vacant fields. Clark could see that the older man had so many questions burning in his mind, yet he hung back and bit his tongue out of reverence for him, his abilities and the hellish ordeal he'd just been through. Clark finally indulged his curiosity.

"I didn't always have my powers you know," he said, trying to ease the tension between him and one of his rescuers.

Al turned to look at him again, "Is that so?"

"Yeah…they didn't become more obvious until I was around 12 or 13. I mean, I could lift my Dad's truck one-handed when I was younger than that, but not with any consistency or anything. And most of my other powers didn't come until later then that."

"A whole truck one-handed? Geez!…" he thought about that some more before adding, "Although, I guess that isn't all that surprising given how you lifted an entire island by yourself a year and a half ago."

"Yeah…that weighed a lot more than the truck, let me tell ya," Clark said in a joking voice. Al tried to stifle a chuckle but it soon burst forth into full blown laughter until even Clark couldn't suppress himself. The wind carried the sounds of their hilarity back to the kitchen, making the concerned faces of the four women at the table break out into tight smiles.

* * *

That night was the first night that they all slept soundly in their own beds. Martha had patched up Al's burnt pajama bottoms as best she could earlier in the day, and he settled himself back down on the couch for what he hoped would be a decent night's rest. Lois and Clarissa shared the guest bedroom, with the Special Agent taking the cot erected near the foot of the bed, while Martha settled herself in the room she and Jonathan had once shared—but not before saying a heartfelt prayer of thanks for Clark's freedom and recovery. 

They had been sleeping for some time when the first scream cut through the still night air. Lois sat bolt upright in bed, shaking at the terrifying but vaguely familiar sound. Another cry cut through the darkness and she discerned that Clarissa was now awake too, trying to determine where the noise was coming from.

"**NOOOO!!!!!**" the third shout echoed from down the hallway.

Lois dashed out of bed toward the door, her bare feet hardly making a sound as she ran over the cold wood floor. She could hear Martha and Clarissa behind her and Al scrambling up the stairs as she flung open the door to Clark's bedroom.

He was in the throes of a full-fledged nightmare, that much was apparent. In the pale moonlight Lois saw his teeth gritted in pain, watched as his fists clutched desperately at the wrenched sheets of his bed and saw the muscles in his chest and arms strain against an unseen attack. His torso suddenly heaved up like a scene out of "The Exorcist", and without thinking she stepped forward to wake him up from this fresh new hell he found himself in.

"DON'T!" Al cried, grabbing hold of her just in time.

"**GET OFF ME!!!! ARGH!!!!!!!!!!**" came Clark's deep booming voice as he simultaneously raised a fist and swung it around, landing on the wooden nightstand next to his bed and smashing it into pieces.

They stared in horror as he continued to thrash about, not knowing how to help him, while Martha gasped in terror as she watched her son battle the demons of his imprisonment in his sleep. Despite knowing the bodily harm that could befall her, Lois continued to flay about in Al's grasp, demanding to be let go so she could attend to Clark.

"Do you want to get yourself killed, Lois?!" he cried out at her angrily. "Because he doesn't know it, but right now he could kill you with his bare hands, you hear me!?! **HE COULD KILL YOU!!!!**" That effectively stopped her in her tracks and he released her from his grip.

"But how do we wake him up? We've got to stop this NOW before he hurts himself or takes the house down with us in it!" she said in a panic as Clark let loose another gut wrenching scream that made them all shudder.

"WAIT!" Clarissa said, backing out of the doorway and sprinting downstairs to the hall closet. She came back moments later with the broom in her hands.

Lois shot her a peeved look. "You have GOT to be joking!" Clark twisted more violently in his bed, causing them all to look at him with concern.

"Do you have a BETTER IDEA?!" Clarissa demanded. Knowing Lois had none, she hesitantly stepped forward and jabbed gently but firmly at Clark's chest. Martha sat on a chair in the hallway, her pale face placed between her knees; hearing her boy shriek like that made her heart sink to the pit of her stomach and she felt faint. Al and Lois watched as Clarissa jabbed at Clark again, hoping to rouse him out of his nightmare.

Instead, his super-quick reflexes made him grab hold of the wooden broom handle and he yanked it away from her, reducing it to little more than toothpicks in a matter of seconds while still tossing about in his sleep.

"Now what?" Al shouted over the din. Lois looked beyond Al's shoulder at the water pitcher on the nightstand. Without a second thought she stepped up and grabbed it, moving as close to Clark as she dared.

"Lois, NO…" he cried out, horrified at what the man might do if he got a hold of her. She splashed the contents of the pitcher on him.

Clark sat up in bed, his heart racing, the cold water mixing with the sweat of his exertions and dripping down his face. It took him a moment to remember where he was and he turned to the doorway to see a very anxious-looking Lois holding an empty water pitcher, while Clarissa and Al stood behind her staring at him in concern; in the hallway he could hear his Mother murmuring "Oh Clark…oh my boy…" softly to herself.

"Wh—what happened?" he asked.

Lois strode over and sat in front of him on the bed. "You were having a nightmare," she told him simply. He glanced down at the wet pillow and the splintered remnants of the broom handle, then at the demolished nightstand next to him. He shot her a look of pure fear. "A rather violent nightmare," she hastened to add. Lois took one of his hands in both of hers and started patting it reassuringly; she went so far as to move forward to give him a hug when he pulled away from her, the look of alarm never leaving his face.

"Did I…" he gulped as if struggling for air "Did I _hurt_ anyone?" he asked.

"No, but you definitely owe your mother a new broom," Al added with a false chuckle in his voice, hoping to ease the tension in the air. It didn't help.

Clark lowered his head in disbelief at his uncontrolled actions before looking up at everyone once more. "I'm sorry I scared you all, hopefully it won't happen again," he said.

Lois took his face in her hands and made him focus on her. "Clark, it's alright, we're just worried about you that's all. Are you sure you're ok?" she asked, voice full of concern.

He turned away and out of her grasp. "I'll be fine. You should all go back to bed now, I'm sorry I woke you. Mom?" he called out to Martha, who was still in the hallway. She stood up and leaned against the doorway, her whole body trembling and her cheeks visibly damp. "Mom, I'm sorry I scared you. I'm fine now. Just go back to bed and I'll clean everything up in the morning." Not knowing what else to do, Martha nodded dumbly and turned back down the hall to her room. Clarissa and Al slowly filed out behind her.

"You sure you don't want me to stay with you until you fall asleep again?" Lois asked timidly, trying to reach out for his hand one more time.

"No, I'll be fine, you should get some rest," he said, pulling away from her once more. She rose from the bed and shut the door behind her, a look of extreme annoyance at her quick dismissal crossing her face as she left him alone with his thoughts. He lay on his back wide awake, his hands grasping the sheets and balling into fists at his inability to have any control over his life. He let a restrained cry of rage escape him.

* * *

_**Smallville, KS**_**, March 5, 2008. **Clarissa stepped outside for a breath of air and found Clark sitting by himself on the front steps, tossing a ratty baseball a few feet in front of him for the yellow Labrador to retrieve and bring back dutifully to it's master. In the few days since he'd been awake it was rare that he'd been left alone, and she didn't want to intrude on his solitude. She was about to re-enter the house when he spoke up. 

"It's ok, Agent Woodrow," he called out without turning to face her. She walked across the porch and sat down beside him.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"By the sound of your footsteps and by the way you hesitated when you saw me out here by myself just now. If you were Lois or my Mother you wouldn't have debated whether to join me or not; they would have just come over and scolded me about staying out in the cold too long." He glanced over at her and caught the look in her eye. "And to answer your question, no, my hearing hasn't come back in yet."

"I wasn't about to…"

"Sure you were." Clark took the ball from Shelby's mouth and threw it out again. Wistfully, he recalled a time when he could throw it easily over three acres; now he had to concentrate to get it further than ten feet.

Quietly, she said to him, "You know, they're just worried about you. We all are."

"I know," he replied quietly, feeling guilty about resenting all the help they'd offered him over the last few days. They sat like that for a few moments before he pressed on. "Listen, I hope you won't take what I'm about to ask you the wrong way—and don't get me wrong, I like Lieutenant Henrickson and I appreciate everything you two did along with the rest of the Task Force to help find me, but what about your partner, Agent Chase? Why isn't he here instead? Did something happen to him?"

Clarissa gritted her teeth as the name of her former colleague was mentioned. They'd informed Clark that there had been a traitor in the Task Force, but specifically left out that it was Agent Chase, leading him to believe that it was an unknown member that had helped Finneran and Luthor keep him imprisoned for so long.

"He's not dead, is he?" he asked hesitantly.

"Only if he's lucky…" she muttered under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

Now it was Clarissa's turn to let out the ire that had been building inside her since her partner's involvement was disclosed. "It was Chase that betrayed you to Luthor and Finneran. I don't know how he got involved with them but he did and they paid him to inform them whenever we got close to finding you. That's how they managed to escape in Rordenville and in Lexington." She watched the darkness cloud over his features as the news sunk in.

"If that bastard hadn't been so damn greedy…who knows how much sooner this could have ended? But all he cared about was his own bank account…it makes me want to vomit just thinking about him."

Neither spoke for a moment, then Clark let out a quiet "I see."

"I'm so sorry, Sir; sorry that he did what he did, and sorry that he got away. By the time we discovered he was the perpetrator he'd already beat a hasty retreat, and we decided to use his betrayal to our advantage in finding you instead of in pursuing him and bringing him to justice. You see, he fled so quickly that Luthor and Finneran didn't know he was gone until…" she didn't want to remind him of the beating he took at the hands of the two femme fatales in early February, so she moved along, saying "…until much later. And that allowed us to track them undetected for quite awhile, bringing us closer to finding you."

He nodded almost imperceptibly, the only indication she had that he'd heard anything at all. Shelby came trotting back with the ball in her mouth and he unknowingly took it from her. Without a moment's hesitation he tossed the ball way off into the distance until it was a little speck in the sky.

"Oh my," Clarissa said softly. Clark broke away from his blank gaze and watched as the ball settled in a vacant field some miles away. He looked down at the dog who had bounded a few steps away, only to turn back with a confused expression on her face.

"Sorry," he said, more to Shelby than to Clarissa. The animal turned around and headed for the kitchen in back and the doggy door, leaving the two of them alone on the steps.

Clarissa cleared her throat. "There's something else I've been meaning to tell you, Sir."

He looked over at her. "Agent Woodrow, you shot and killed Lex Luthor to save my life. You can stop calling me Sir and start calling me Clark; you've more than earned that right."

She shifted uncomfortably on the steps as she recalled Luthor's lifeless form on the ground, the red blood from his head wound seeping into his crisp white suit, and all at her hand. Clarissa pushed the thought out of her mind. "What I wanted to tell you was that Lt. Henrickson and I will be leaving tomorrow. Now that you're better, we need to get back to Metropolis and report to our higher-ups, not to mention fill out all the requisite paperwork and clear out Headquarters at City Hall. Everything happened so quickly in Chicago and there's a lot that we left unfinished because we couldn't complete it until we knew you were alright."

"And you think I'm alright?" he asked her pointedly. Instead of squirming, she met his gaze.

"No, I don't, but you're as alright as you're going to be for the time being and there isn't much more that he and I can do around here for you."

Clark let out a semi-relieved sigh and looked back over the fields before him. "I'm glad somebody's being straight with me." He paused briefly before continuing. "I know you need to get back, but I'd be lying if I said I weren't a bit concerned…"

"That we might tell someone you're here? We won't. Or maybe you're concerned that someone will track our movements from Chicago to Smallville? They won't," she replied confidently.

"But how can you be so sure?"

"Because he and I have discussed this ad nauseam and we have a plan for diverting attention away from you and from Kansas to assure your continued safety and privacy. We'll head out in the rental van, and once we're across state lines somewhere he'll drop me off at an airport and I'll buy a ticket back to the City. He'll change rental cars every couple hours and meet me a few days later, making sure to cover his trail so no one can track you down through us. Trust me, Mr. Kent, we know what we're doing."

He let a small smile cross his face at her stubborn refusal to call him by his given name. "I know you're both professionals, it's just that if this secret got out it could hurt so many people…"

"…not to mention yourself," she interrupted him.

He ignored her and continued on "…and I can't afford for that to happen, especially now when I'm in no position to protect them."

Clarissa let out an annoyed breath. "You know, I know it's not my place to say, but you've got to look out for yourself first. I understand why you're not used to doing that but if you keep spreading yourself so thin, worrying about everyone else and THEN yourself…well, you're not going to be able to help anybody that way and your recovery is going to take a hell of a lot longer."

"Duly noted, Special Agent," he replied wryly, catching her slightly off guard. Her breath caught sharply in her throat and she got up abruptly, heading back inside to pack and plot a course home with Al.

Clark sat alone once more on the front steps, regretting his attitude toward her while still unable to reconcile his exasperation at the state of affairs his life was in. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to will away his anger, only to open them again and find that it was to no avail.


	49. Chapter 49

_**Smallville, KS**_**, March 17, 2008.** Lois had given Clarissa the key to her apartment, and upon reaching the City the Special Agent packed and shipped all the clothes the young woman would need while in Smallville, sending them overnight in a box addressed to Martha Kent to avoid any suspicion. Together, the two women stayed with Clark to help him recover, watching over him like protective Mother Hens. Chloe helped out when she could, but she left for Gotham a few days after Al and Clarissa; she had been scheduled to attend a three-day conference there with editors of other small town periodicals prior to Clark's return, and she didn't want to bring any undue suspicion upon herself by deciding to stay in Town after publicly looking forward to it for so long.

By day Clark continued to remain distant and moody. He wouldn't let Martha or Lois touch him unless it was absolutely necessary and he hated small spaces. One day his Mother caught him cringing upon entering the cramped dark pantry to retrieve some flour for her; when he came out she tried to hug him and let him know it was alright but he pulled back, muttering something about Shelby before calling to the dog and walking out the back door. When he wasn't avoiding them, the two women would catch him watching the news on TV; but instead of getting upset every time a piece about a robbery, murder, or other disaster flashed across the screen he would just sigh resignedly and change the channel to an innocuous game show or sitcom. This behavior in particular infuriated Lois to no end, while Martha just wrung her hands in despair, saying "What else can we do? He'll come out of this in his own time…I know my son and he can't stay apathetic forever, it's not in his nature."

Nighttime, however, was another story entirely. Clark continued to have nightmares so violent that the whole house trembled. Martha tried to help Lois rouse him out of his terrors, but watching her son fend off unforeseen foes and cry out helplessly rendered her completely useless. Only the young woman could stomach the scenes that played out before her night after night long enough to wake Clark out of his fitful slumber, and every evening the preparations were the same; Lois would step outside and collect a large sturdy branch and haul it up the stairs, leaving it just outside Clark's bedroom door in order to try and jab him awake when the need arose. Then, she'd place a pitcher of water on the bureau closest to the entryway in the event that the prodding wasn't enough to stop his nocturnal struggles. After the first night they'd taken to moving most of the furniture out of Clark's reach, but the wall behind his head as well as the bed frame were a little worse for wear since he'd returned home; he'd inadvertently punched several holes into the former and broken the structure of the latter twice.

Two obstacles they'd had yet to overcome since Clark woke up were the Missing Person's report filed in Metropolis and Ben Hubbard. On the afternoon of the 17th Chloe came over with coffee and muffins from the Talon to check in on her friend, only to find that he was out walking with Shelby, and instead she sat around the kitchen table listening to Lois discussing some options with Martha.

"I think it's time we announce that Clark's back, at least to the people in Smallville, if not to the people of Metropolis too. Enough time has passed since Superman was rescued that there shouldn't be any questions, and if I have to listen to one more voicemail from Jimmy Olsen asking if Superman's well enough to search for Clark than I'm going to scream…no matter how good that man's intentions are, he's getting on my nerves," Lois said exasperatedly over her cappuccino.

"It's nice to know he's concerned though," Martha added, trying to temper Lois' anger.

"Concerned is one thing; obsessed is another."

Chloe snorted on her drink. When she recovered she asked, "But how do we explain Clark's return? It's not like he up and left on another 'soul searching trip', Martha. A Missing Person's report was filed, there's a paper trail. You can't just tell the Metropolis P.D. that he mysteriously showed up on you doorstep seven months later."

"Maybe Al could…?" Martha started to suggest.

"I've already thought of that," Lois interjected, "And he can't. It isn't in his Precinct so it's not in his jurisdiction. Besides that, even if we got rid of the paperwork that still doesn't give us a story to tell everyone else…"

"Tell everyone else what?" Ben Hubbard asked, entering the kitchen by the back doorway and holding a small bouquet of flowers. "I don't mean to be rude, Martha, but you've been holding me at arm's length for nearly two months, first saying you were going to Metropolis, than catching the flu... I just wanted to look in on you and see that you were alright with my own two eyes. But I didn't mean to interrupt when you had company over..." His eyes finally rested on Chloe and Lois, and he was most surprised at their appearance. "Lois? Chloe?" Ben looked confusedly from one face to another, wondering why Clark's friends were sitting chatting in Martha's kitchen when her son was still missing.

Martha caught the look in Ben's eye and knew she had to act fast to protect Clark's secret. "Ben, I…I can explain everything," she said, her mind working frantically to find a plausible rationalization for why the two young women were there. Before she could however, Lois jumped in.

"We found Clark!"

Chloe and Martha's eyes went almost as wide as Ben's. It took a few moments for the older man to find his voice. "You did?! When? Where? Is he alright? Martha, why didn't you tell me…?"

"It…it…it all happened so fast," Lois said, her mind busily working on fabricating a plausible back story.

Chloe chimed in. "He was in Gotham!" she cried out, shooting Lois a look and trying telepathically to get her on-board with her plan. Martha sat back in her chair, wringing her hands together nervously.

"Gotham? Why?"

"The day he disappeared, he was meeting with an informant," Lois said, trying to calm her voice and pass the lie off as a truth. She thought she knew where Chloe was going with this and only hoped she was right. "We think that person lured him down to the docks under false pretenses, then beat him up…"

"…And dumped him in Gotham, thinking he was dead. Only he wasn't dead, but when he came to he had amnesia." Chloe finished. _It's amazing how alike we think…_Lois marveled to herself.

"Amnesia? Oh my…is he still, you know…?"

Lois cried out, "No!"

"Yes!" Chloe said simultaneously.

They both glared at one another. _Maybe our thought processes __aren't__ so similar…_ "Sort of," they compromised.

Ben turned his gaze on Martha with a face full of love and concern. "Dear, I'm afraid I don't quite know what's going on. Your son, is he or isn't he alright?"

Martha finally spoke up. "He's…_better_ than when he was first found. He'd been living off the streets of Gotham and he didn't know who he was or what he was doing; that's how Chloe found him when she was there for her conference. She took him in and cleaned him up, told him how worried we all were, and brought him back with her. He was very…_puzzled_, at first, but I think that being in familiar surroundings has helped him a great deal." _Oh here I go again, lying through my teeth… Lord forgive me…_

Just then Clark walked in the back door, having not heard a word, urging Shelby inward and rubbing the dog's head. Before he knew it he came face to face with Ben Hubbard. Beneath the mass of black hair covering his face his blue eyes went wide in alarm; he didn't know if the older man would put two and two together and Clark scanned the kitchen in a futile attempt to search for a pair of glasses or a mug or a vase he could knock over. Finding none he stood frozen to the spot just inside the doorway.

"Clark, I'm so glad you're alright!" Ben exclaimed, getting up from his seat and clasping the young man's hand while giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Clark tentatively shook his hand in return but looked beyond Ben to the women at the table for some clue as to how to react. Both Chloe and Lois mouthed 'AMNESIA' and he appeared to have gotten the message.

"Um, thank you…?" he replied, his voice trailing off as he pretended not to recognize his Mother's boyfriend.

The older man paid no attention to personal boundaries and continued to urge his well-wishes on Clark, keeping him pinned to the corner of the kitchen. "Oh right, right! I'm Ben, Ben Hubbard, a…a _friend_ of your Mom's. You know, you gave us quite a scare there, but I'm glad to see you're up and about."

"Yeah, thanks," he replied, looking for a means of escape. Ben wasn't letting up; if anything he was pushing Clark further into the corner. Clark stood with his back to the doorway, the wall on one side and the counter top and cabinet on the other, and he was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. Martha saw the startled animal look in her son's eyes as they darted back and forth, desperately searching for a way out.

"Ben!" she called out suddenly, causing him to swivel around and face her. "Um, why don't we…why don't we go for a drive? I'll explain everything to you then; besides, it'll give Chloe and Lois some time alone with Clark."

"Sure, Martha, that sounds fine. My truck's parked right out front, why don't we go out that way and you can grab your coat," he said, striding over to her and fishing his car keys out of his jacket pocket while helping her to her feet. "Don't worry about your memory, Son, I'm sure it'll come back in time. Glad to see you're alright!" he called out one more time over his shoulder, missing the look that Martha shot Chloe and Lois; all three knew that Clark was liable to do something dangerous the way his adrenaline was coursing through his system and her gaze only served to keep them on their guard.

As soon as the elderly couple was out the door Clark collapsed in a heap in the corner where Ben had left him. He was trembling and there was a small line of perspiration lingering on his forehead. His breathing was coming in in heavy gasps.

"Easy there," Chloe said, standing up from the table and picking her way toward her friend, talking to him as if he were a spooked horse. Lois beat her to him, not hesitating to touch him.

"Clark, I'm so sorry," she said, grabbing hold of his arm and breaking him out of his faraway stare. "Ben just burst in on us, we didn't know what to do. Chloe and I have got you covered though, you can come back to the rest of the world as Clark Kent now." Behind Lois' shoulder Chloe nodded in agreement.

"I'll take care of the paper trail, don't you worry. The seat next to me on the flight back from Gotham was empty, and it'll take no time to hack into the airlines' system and claim you were on it…"

"And we'll just tell everyone you had amnesia. We'll tell them that you were set up by some thugs down at the docks when you were doing interviews for your story last September, and that they dumped you in Gotham and you didn't know who you were until Chloe found you when she was there for her conference."

The two women looked to one another as Clark failed to respond. His expression was still vacant and the trembling had abated somewhat while his breathing became more regular, but they had no idea if he'd heard anything they'd just said. He started to get back up on his feet.

"Doesn't that sound like a good plan?" Chloe ventured to ask.

Lois pressed on. "This way we can tell Perry and Jimmy that you're back; everyone at the _Planet's_ been so worried about you, and now they'll know that you're safe. Pretty soon you'll be well enough to head back to Metropolis, and back to work and being with me and Jason. Isn't that wonderful?" she asked, her voice full of hope.

Clark stood up now, his 6'4" frame towering over the two young women. "Yeah, that's great, you've got it all figured out…" he replied rather absently. He turned around and opened the door.

"Clark?" Lois called out softly, afraid her voice would betray the heartbreak she was feeling as he brushed her off yet again. "Clark, where are you going?"

"I'm going to walk the dog," he informed them, closing the door behind him without even looking back. Chloe and Lois stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at where he had just stood and wearing worried expressions on their faces, until Lois couldn't keep up the façade any longer and burst into tears on Chloe's shoulder.

Neither of them noticed Shelby meander into the room, alone, and casually stroll over to her water bowl.


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N:**This is just to reiterate the point that I own nothing contained herein, and am not making any profit off any references to Superman & Company, or "Mork & Mindy", OR Robin Williams. The only ideas that are my own are the ones surrounding Clark's current predicament, nothing more.

* * *

_**Smallville, **_**KS, March 25, 2008. **Lois called Perry shortly after she and Chloe hammered out the details of Clark's 'miraculous discovery', and she let the Editor-in-Chief know that she had been spending time in Smallville since he was found, helping Martha tend to him during his recovery. Perry was surprised, to say the least; never in a million years would he have pictured her foregoing Superman's bedside to tend to her amnesiac farm boy partner, but there she was, doing just that. She informed him that Superman was fine, that he needed time to heal physically and emotionally but that he was among friends, and that Clark was most in need of her assistance…_which isn't far from the truth,_ she thought to herself as she half-listened to his reaction on the other end of the phone. Lois also made Perry promise to tell Jimmy the good news on her behalf—she just couldn't handle the photographer's exuberance when Clark's spirits made hers sag so low.

Martha and Clark's friends in Smallville all popped by to chat with him and help him recover his memory after Ben let it slip he'd been found. They were all shocked by his grizzly appearance, but were even more startled by his change in demeanor. One day in particular Lana was about to take her leave when she cornered Lois by the front door.

"Are you sure it's him and not a look-a-like?" she asked anxiously, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the sullen man on the sofa hadn't heard her.

"I'm sure, why do you ask?" Lois asked patiently.

"Well, it's not the beard that's making me wonder, you know, but it's his whole attitude. He's just not the same man he was when I last saw him a year ago—I mean, I don't know how else to explain it, but that's just not Clark sitting in there!"

Lois looked into Lana's face; the other woman's eyes sought reassurance from her, and she tried her best to supply it. "Lana… Clark's been through quite an ordeal. We don't know what he had to go through to survive these last seven months, and he's still trying to recover from the amnesia. He just hasn't found his way back yet, that's all…but he will; given time I know that he will."

Lana sighed and pulled her coat tight around her shoulders as she prepared to step outside. "I know, it's just…it just makes you second-guess yourself when he's behaving so oddly. And it's hard seeing him like this, you know?"

_More than you'll ever know…_Lois said to herself, nodding as the young woman turned and stepped out the doorway.

Eventually the well-wishers stopped coming around the farm, yet Clark persisted in remaining distant and irritable. Martha and Lois stood by him throughout and helped him re-adjust as his powers gradually returned—his abilities were still far from being consistent, however, and he struggled to maintain control over his body. In addition to patching up the wall in his bedroom he'd had to replace a panel in the back door he'd inadvertently kicked in, buy his Mother a second set of silverware to replace the pieces that he'd crushed in his grasp during mealtimes and scrounge around the barn for some old baseballs for Shelby, having accidentally hurled quite a few across property lines.

That Tuesday he was being particularly ill-tempered and Lois decided she'd had enough of him keeping her at arm's length. At Lois' insistence Martha had gone out with Ben for an early dinner and then to Bingo night in an attempt to find some sense of normalcy in her own life, but Clark's behavior toward her now was so infuriating that Lois decided to get out too and go grocery shopping alone…mostly to save her sanity.

"I left my cell phone number posted on the cork board by the telephone in case you need anything," she called out to him as she collected her purse and the keys to the truck. Clark just sat on the couch unmoving, watching a re-run of "Mork & Mindy". "Clark, did you hear me?" she asked moving down the hall toward the living room. He just nodded at her as she poked her head in the entryway. "Is there anything special you want from the store?" Again, Clark simply shook his head in response. "Well fine then, be that way!!!" Lois felt like hurling the keys at him but instead grabbed her coat and stomped out of the house, leaving him to his own wiles.

He didn't even flinch as the door slammed shut behind her. The sound of the engine grew distant down the drive and soon he was left with nothing but the television and his thoughts to occupy him.

Some moments later, after hearing Robin Williams utter the catch phrase "Nanoo Nanoo" for the umpteenth time, Clark finally lost it. "GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM YOU STUPID ALIEN! TAKE IT FROM ME, NOBODY WANTS YOU HERE!!!! GO BACK TO YOUR HOME BEFORE IT BLOWS UP AND IT'S TOO LATE!!!" He threw the remote at the wall above the TV set and the backing broke off, sending the batteries flying. Clark propped his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers through his hair exasperatedly.

_I can't keep doing this! _he thought, his head in his hands. _Something has got to give, I can't keep living like this anymore…_he closed his eyes and inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply. He was beginning to relax when he saw in his mind's eye the gleaming green glow of the Kryptonite walls of his cell and his throat began to swell shut in time with the walls closing in around him…

"**AHHHHHHH!!!!**" he screamed, his fist falling on the coffee table and splitting it in two. He yelled out again, this time with eyes upturned toward the heavens. "**WHY?! WHY CAN'T I JUST BE ****NORMAL****?!?! WHY CAN'T I MOVE PAST THIS!??!?! WHY?!?!**" Clark felt himself losing control, and he struggled to contain the fire that was burning in his eyes lest he mistakenly set the house ablaze.

The phone in the kitchen rang just then, distracting him from his weary self-centered thoughts. He let it ring twice, seriously contemplating whether or not to answer it as he figured it was Lois or his Mother calling to check in on him, before getting up and walking to the kitchen…_Better not ruin their evening by having them worry about me anymore than they already are_…he figured as he picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he answered in annoyance.

"Mommy?" a child's voice on the other end of the line asked questioningly. Clark's heart skipped a beat.

"Jason?"

In all the weeks since he'd woken up Clark had inquired after his and Lois' son, but given his sporadic and moody nature Lois wisely kept them off the phone from one another. Their son was stressed enough as it was, living with his Uncle Perry and Richard in Metropolis and constantly wondering when his Mommy and Daddy Clark were coming home. What she was also afraid of was that Clark would blurt something out when he was in one of his low moods and harm Jason more than the entire situation already had.

The boy on the other end whispered loudly into the phone, "DADDY?!?!"

Clark's eyes were brimming with tears of joy; it had been seven months since he'd been called Daddy; seven months since he'd heard that tiny little voice or held the child it belonged to in his arms.

"JASON?! Jason, I'm so glad you're ok…" he could hear the little boy whimper on the other end of the line. "What's the matter, Son, are you hurt? Are you alright? Jason?"

"I'm…fine…" he managed between sniffles. Then he added, "Daddy I MISSED YOU! I was so scared for you and…and…and…I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!! And I'm sorry!!!" his wailing began afresh.

"I MISSED YOU TOO Buddy, but what do you have to be sorry for? Huh, Jason, what are you sorry for?" Clark asked, abandoning his self-pity in his concern for his son.

"It's all my fault! Mommy said it wasn't but I know it was and I'm SORRY! The bad men got you 'cause of me and I tried to stop 'em but they were just too big and I…"

Before the boy could say another word Clark interjected in his booming Superman voice with a simple, "Don't." Jason immediately quieted down on the other end of the line, his breath coming in in rapid gasps as he struggled to stop the sobs. "Jason, your Mother was right; NONE of this was your fault. The bad men got me not because of anything you did or didn't do, but because they were bad people, do you understand me? NONE of this was your fault."

"Yes," the boy answered meekly, his sniffles subsiding.

"Good." An awkward silence reigned for a moment before Clark cracked a small smile and said slyly, "Have I told you how much I missed _you_?"

"Not in the last thirty seconds," Jason replied sarcastically, only hiccups remaining as the result of his crying. His tone reminded Clark of Lois back in the old days in the office.

Clark laughed, the first decent laugh he'd uttered in weeks. "Well _excuuuuuuuse _me!!!! You know, you are getting to be entirely too much like your Mother." He could hear the boy giggle on the other end of the phone. "Say, when is your next school vacation? It should be coming up soon, isn't it?" He tried to recall what Lois had told him about Jason's class schedule, but he had been in too much of a 'woe is me' mood to hear her out.

"Yeah, in three weeks! Can I come see you Dad? Mom said I might…if you were feeling better, that is," he added almost as an afterthought.

"I think that can definitely be arranged; I know your Mom is as desperate to see you as I am. Now I want you to tell me everything that's new with you: what you've learned at school, what you're doing with your friends, how you're getting along with Uncle Perry…"

Father and son talked for almost an hour, with Jason doing most of the talking. Clark didn't even realize how late it was getting until he heard the truck ambling slowly up the unlit driveway, but he wouldn't think of getting off the phone—not even to help Lois unload groceries. He listened as her footsteps creaked on the old porch stairs before Jason brought him out of his reverie.

"Uh-oh…Dad, I have to go. Uncle Perry's coming in to tuck me in and I'm not s'posed to be on the phone."

The front door opened as he spoke, "Alright, I understand, but next time don't abuse your Uncle's hospitality and sneak around using the phone at all hours, ok?"

"Ok. And Dad?"

"Yes, Son?"

"I love you."

Clark couldn't restrain the smile that burst forth across his face. "I love you too. Now sleep tight." He returned the phone to it's cradle in time to glance down the hallway at Lois. She stood just inside the doorway, arms laden with bags of groceries, and her jaw hung open in an O of shock.

"What is it?" he asked, still basking in the glow of having talked with his child for the first time in months.

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "You're…you're…"

"Yes?" he asked casually.

"You're…"

"I'm…"

"Hovering!" she finally spit out, dropping a sack of groceries on the floor and pointing at him.

Earlier on in his conversation with Jason, Clark had pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and taken a seat by the phone, but he was so engrossed in reconnecting with his son that he forgot the world around him and was now floating a foot above the chair. His eyes went wide in alarm as he looked from Lois to the floor below and back to her. The realization that this particular power had returned hit him like a ton of bricks and he came crashing down to the ground, splintering the chair beneath him.

"CLARK!" she shrieked, rushing to his side. He sat on the hardwood floorboards a little dazed and sore from the contact. Luckily, the kitchen floor was none the worse for wear. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"No Lois, I'm not hurt...just my pride is, that's all." He laughed as he rubbed his sore rear-end. "Maybe I am more like Peter Pan then I realize—you know, think happy thoughts and all." They both chuckled. "That was Jason on the phone just now, by the way. You should probably give him a call tomorrow since Perry was coming in to put him to bed when he hung up."

He studied her but he couldn't quite read the expression on her face. Finally, she said, "You know, that's the most you've said to me all day."

He stood there a moment longer before looking into her hazel eyes with a face full of shame. "I know." They stood staring at one another like that in the kitchen.

"Is that going to change?" she asked, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

"I'd like to try…"


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N: **This was another one of my favorite chapters that I wrote for this story, and I hope you all like it as much as I do. Please try and leave a review to let me know what you think.

* * *

_**Smallville, KS**_**, March 25/26, 2008.** Martha returned home around 9:30 that evening and found Lois and Clark engrossed in conversation at the kitchen table. She noted the groceries that were strewn across the front hallway, the shattered TV remote on the floor and the split coffee table in the living room; she was desperate to know what was so urgently being said that the house was left in such disrepair, but she knew better than to intrude. Martha could tell that Clark didn't want to trouble her with the knowledge of what had happened to him during his six month imprisonment, nor did she think she could stomach hearing his side of the sordid tale, and she hoped that Lois would be able to help mend her broken boy. 

She watched the pair silently for a moment before stealing up the stairs to bed, recognizing something between the two of them that they were only peripherally aware of themselves: that they were kindred souls, and they needed to work together to push past the trauma that had befallen them over the last several months and hopefully, finally, be able live their lives as one.

* * *

**9:07 PM.** "You know, you don't have to keep everything bottled up inside. Your Mother and I are here for you—you know that, right?" 

He let out a sigh. "I know, Lois, it's just…what happened to me…it was hard enough living through it let alone burdening someone else with the knowledge of _exactly _what_ they_ did." Clark hung his head low at the torturous memories of his pain at Luthor and Finneran's hands.

"But I already know, and watching you refuse to even acknowledge that it happened isn't helping you or anyone around you."

His head shot up and he met her warm brown-green eyes with a look of cold terror. "What do you mean you _already_ know?"

Now it was Lois' turn to be uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "I…well, that is…when I…when I was working with the Task Force…um…" her shoulders sagged as she saw that there was no way around the subject. "Clark, that first fight they had you in after they captured you? We didn't want to tell you about it when you first woke up, but Luthor and Finneran had that cut into every major newscast around the globe." He groaned in his chair, his hands covering his face as it flushed in humiliation and grief. "It gets worse.

"I told you that Clarissa had me riding the desk, staying away from the dangerous stuff…" he nodded his head in agreement while still burying his face with his hands, silently thanking Agent Woodrow for her foresight, "…but one day I was late coming in to work and I was walking by the Computer Lab. The techs were all gathered around one of the monitors, so I stopped in to see what was going on. I saw that man beating you up with the Kryptonite staff over and over again…oh Clark, it made me so sick to see what they did to you!" she choked out at him, beginning to weep.

"**SEE!** _This_ is exactly why I don't want to talk about it! You don't need to suffer through anymore of this!" Clark let out angrily, gesticulating wildly with his hands to emphasize the point.

She stifled a sob and yelled back at him, "No, wait a minute, you are **NOT** going to use me as a cop out! If you won't talk to me or your Mother about this than we _will_ find someone who can help you, but you _are_ going to talk about what happened—sooner rather than later!"

They stared one another down, each believing they were in the right. Clark knew he wouldn't last long against Lois' glare, but if ever he thought of taking advantage of his sympathetic position with her he knew now was the time. He held out as long as he could before succumbing to her will.

"**FINE!** You want to hear about the **HELL** I went through, then **FINE!** You want to hear how miserable it was, never seeing the light of day, hungering for news of the outside world and wondering if anyone out there cared whether I was alive or dead, or if they were even looking for me?! What about the slop they fed me, like I was no better than a pig, or how they made me feel like an animal trapped in too small a cage!? How about how it felt, every inch of my body burning in pain and thinking I'd crawl out of my skin or go mad waiting for it to stop?!? What about what it was like being forced to fight criminals whose bullets bounced off my chest just the week before, only now they were wailing on me until I was nothing but a bloody pulp?!? How about the fear I felt, constantly worrying that Luthor might go after you or Jason when he knew you were vulnerable, just because he could and he wanted to bring me even lower!?!? Is _THIS_ what you want to hear about, Lois, because **I! CAN! GO! ON!**" His face was red with rage, recalling the injustices he'd suffered at the hands of the madmen, the things he'd had to endure both on and off-camera all those long months.

"I DON'T _WANT_ TO HEAR ANY OF THIS, but you NEED to get it off your chest and I NEED to hear it to help you move past it! **WE** need to work this out together, Clark, or _WE_ won't make it! So why can't you get that through your thick Midwestern skull?!?!"

He eyed her suspiciously. "We?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to gauge whether it was a genuine question or her own brand of sarcasm being thrown back at her. She trusted it was the latter. "Well I _thought_ that since we do have a _child_ together and all…it just made sense." She waited on bated breath to see his reaction.

"You know," Clark said slowly, "I think I liked you better when you were walking on egg shells around me."

"Yeah, well, I'm not too thrilled with this new stubborn streak you've got going on either," she retorted.

He sighed, knowing that telling her the saga of his ordeal was inevitable.

* * *

**10:39 PM.** "I should have been more careful that day, I should have x-rayed the area instead of just swooping in like that…" 

"Jason was in DANGER! You had NANOSECONDS to react, and you're telling me now that if you could go back you would have HESITATED to save OUR SON?! I don't believe that for a second! Besides, the way they had everything coated in lead…you wouldn't have known what was about to happen even if you HAD stopped!"

"No, I know I wouldn't have known…it's just…"

"Just what?"

"It's just that…that…Lois, I feel so stupid! To fall for a trap of Luthor's like that without even batting an eye! And he knew it too, that's the worst of it! He knew just how to get to Jason to get to me!"

"But Luthor's dead, Clark! And by the sounds of it he kept our secret a closely guarded one, so we don't have to worry about anyone…"

"But we'll always have to worry, can't you see that?!? That's why I can't get close to you and Jason, why I always have to keep you two at arm's length…if anyone else ever found out…" he looked across the table at her with watery blue eyes. "I may be strong, but if anything ever happened to either one of you I _know_ I wouldn't survive it."

She reached out over the table to intertwine her hand with his in an attempt to reassure him, only to have him jerk his arm back as if she were about to strike him. Lois winced at his reaction.

"Is that why you won't touch me?"

"What?"

"You haven't hugged me or touched me at all since you first woke up. Are you trying to push me away, is that why you won't hold me?"

Clark stammered to explained. "I-I..."

"Because if that's what you want then you're doing a damn good job..."

"I don't want to keep hurting you, but…"

"But, Clark? There are no _buts_…"

He frowned at her exasperatedly. "Will you LET ME FINISH?!" Lois shot daggers at him with her eyes, willing him to prove her wrong. Clark persisted. "I STILL don't have control of my powers! You've seen the way I've been busting things up around here, when I'm asleep _and_ awake! I'm like a LOADED GUN; there's no knowing when I might go off! What if I go to hug you and I fracture your ribs?! Or if I take your hand in mine and break your wrist? I don't want to do that to you, and the best way to prevent that from happening is by not touching you at all!"

She boldly spoke up. "Did it ever occur to you that I might be willing to take the risk?! You were gone for so long, and you've been so distant since that first day…I just want to be near you…"

"Well I won't allow it," he interjected.

"Won't allow it? Won't ALLOW IT?!? Who the heck do you think you are, telling me what you will and will not allow?!?!"

"Lois, I'm putting my foot down about this and that's FINAL!" he snapped, literally slamming his foot down on the ground. The table shook at the contact. "Damn it!" he cried out, bending over to see what fresh damage he may have caused. Luckily there was none done to the floor, but above and across the table from him…well, Clark knew just by looking at her that trouble was brewing…

* * *

**1****1:44 PM.** "Why did you help Nick Finneran after Luthor shot him?" 

He shrugged his shoulders at her tone, knowing that she didn't approve. "You saw that?" he asked, trying to throw her off topic.

"No, but I heard about it. Al said you took the shirt off your own back and used it to stop the blood but that it was pointless, that Finneran was too far gone. So why'd you do it?" She crossed her arms on the table, waiting patiently for an answer.

"I don't know…it just seemed like the right thing to do…" he replied in a falsely casual tone.

Lois arched her eyebrow at him suspiciously. "I recall you once telling me that Superman never lied."

"But I'm not Superman right now, I'm Clark Kent and I think I'm entitled to dance around the truth a little bit just this once…"

She didn't miss a beat. "Superman and Clark Kent are one in the same so stop trying to skirt the issue."

He sighed as she waited patiently for him to complete the thought forming in his head. "I just couldn't sit by and watch him die like that, Lois. I've seen so many violent ends in my life, and when someone knows that their time is coming—they get this look on their face. Only the truly evil can ignore that look, and even in the midst of that never-ending nightmare I couldn't ignore it…even when it was one of my own captors who was doing the dying."

She chewed on the inside of her lower lip, wondering what else he had seen in his lifetime, and wondering if she would ever feel compelled to act in the same way given similar circumstances. "You're a damn noble idiot, you know that Clark Kent? A damn noble idiot," she muttered, half under her breath.

He looked up and over at her with an odd half-smile on his face. "I heard that."

* * *

**1:28 AM.** "Lois, did you ever think that I wouldn't come out of this? That I might…" he swallowed hard at the thought of the words, "…that I might die?" 

She looked over her half-full tea mug at him and saw the concern in his eyes; it was a mixture of worry over the undue pain the question would cause her, as well as the apprehension of what her response might be. She opted to come right out with the truth.

"On a day-to-day basis? No, I never thought like that. If I did I wouldn't have been able to hold it together for Jason; and I didn't even want to think of what life would be like without you should you…"

He finished for her. "Die?"

"Yes," she replied meekly. "I couldn't picture a world without Clark Kent in it, let alone without Superman again." She paused, debating whether or not to continue. "There was one moment, though, when I thought the worst; it was right after Luthor shot Finneran and then he jabbed you with that needle. The way Al described you thrashing about one minute, then lying still as stone the next…" she shuddered, imagining his lifeless form on a cold concrete bunker floor. "To everyone on the outside it sounded like you'd been given a lethal injection, and we all held our breath for a week waiting for news."

"It was lethal…" he half-mumbled, causing her to shoot her head up in alarm over the possibilities of the syringe's long term effects. "The guy that woke me up said they gave me practically enough tranquilizers to kill a horse."

Lois' hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God…"

"Yeah, the first time they injected me with the stuff I thought it was over too."

"You mean…you mean that wasn't the first shot they gave you, the one that was on …?"

"No, it wasn't. That may have been the second or third actually; I can't really remember now, those parts are a little hazy," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh my God…" she said again. They stared at one another for the longest time, Lois marveling at the miracle that was Clark's survival.

She turned the question back around on him. "Did you ever think that you...you know?"

"That it might be the end for me?" he asked.

"You know, you keep talking about your own mortality so casually and it's making me rather nervous."

"Well I'm sorry but I had a lot of time to think about it when I was locked up in there, and it's easier to talk about your own death when you've come face to face with it."

"I've never felt that way, and you _know_ how many times I've been in life-or-death situations before."

"Maybe that's just you then."

"Or maybe your way of talking about it is just you."

He let out a grunt of frustration at her obstinacy before moving on and answering her question. "Yes, I did think I was going to die. There were three times…the first was when they sedated me off-camera; it was so sudden and brutal, I didn't have a chance to process what was going on, and I thought it was all over. The second time was when some of Lex's hired thugs got drunk and decided to have fun knocking me around—I almost didn't come back from that one. And then, the last time I realized I was going to die was shortly before Luthor was preparing to shoot me. I just knew it was coming, I could see it in his eyes that he was finished with me."

Lois looked over at him with trails of tears running down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Clark, I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be," he interjected. "Lois, when I knew that Luthor was preparing to kill me I made my peace with it. That's not to say I wasn't angry, but I was more upset about what I would be missing when I was dead than I was about actually dying. I was never going to get to see Jason grow up, never get to help him learn how to use his powers, never get to see the young man he was going to become. I was going to be leaving you, alone, all over again…never get to hold you, or smell your perfume as you walked past my desk, or take you flying with me. And what almost killed me worse than the thought of those Kryptonite bullets was knowing that Luthor would still be out there, that I'd be dead and gone, and that he was already plotting Jason's end just like he'd plotted mine."

Clark bit his tongue, wishing he'd held back just a little bit more. The horrified expression on Lois' face after hearing of the late-madman's threats against her child would have cut to the heart of any man alive…even a man made of steel.

* * *

**2:34 AM. **He pursed his lips together, debating whether or not to share this next thought with her. She sat opposite him, drumming her fingers on the table, only stopping after he blurted out, "I'm not sure I want to go back to work at the _Daily Planet_." 

"What?! What do you mean? That's your work, your life, you have to go back!" Lois cried out, not comprehending how or why anyone would leave the _Planet_ voluntarily.

"No Lois, that's you," he said almost patronizingly. "For me it was always a job, a means of keeping tabs on developing situations globally and, after my first day, an opportunity to be closer to you."

"But you're a _GREAT_ reporter Clark! You can't just throw that away! Not to mention that NO ONE ELSE will even consider working with me! Perry knows, he tried—he even bribed Gil to take me on for two weeks before I ran him off…in _seventy-two hours_, no less."

He flashed her a sly grin. "Why, Miss Lane, if I didn't know you any better I'd say you were begging for me to come back."

"No I am NOT begging, I'm merely stating the truth. Besides, what else would you do if you weren't a reporter, hmm?"

"Lois, it's not as though I'm exactly lacking in skills here. Once my body is back to normal…well, normal for me anyway…I'll be able to find work. Maybe I'll become a construction worker. You know, work out in the open air, building skyscrapers that almost reach the clouds," she snorted at his hastily-made plan, "or maybe I'll paint. I've been most everywhere around the world, and I can sketch a pretty mean landscape. It would take no time at all and then I'd have the rest of my day free…"

"Oh yeah, because painting _really_ pays the bills. They're called 'starving artists' for a reason, Clark."

He started to get annoyed at how easily she dismissed him. "What if I told you I wanted to stay here and work on the farm then? What would you say to that?"

"I'd say it's a good thing you can fly at the speed of sound because that's the only way you'd get to see Jason other than one weekend a month and every other major holiday."

"Huh? What? You mean you wouldn't consider moving out here…?"

She couldn't believe what he was suggesting. "Are you kidding?! Not only is this the first time you're even bringing this up, but you had to have known deep down inside even before you asked that I was going to say no. I'm a city girl, Clark, there's no ifs ands or buts about it."

"But I thought you said you liked it out here? I even recall you saying that Smallville was 'amazing'…"

Lois cut him off. "Yes, as a place to visit, to get away from the hubbub of the city for awhile, not to live full-time 365 days of the year! I need people, shops, cars, coffee houses, theaters, museums…I need to live in a place where Mr. Hodgin's prized hog isn't practically idolatrized!"

"Hey now, to be fair, from what I heard that was some pig. And just what exactly do _you_ need museums for? When's the last time you even set_ foot_ in a museum?"

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "I'll admit, it's been awhile, but I like knowing that they're there in case I _want_ to go."

"Ok, but I'd be able to take you to any museum you wanted to go to, _whenever_ you wanted to go. You wouldn't need to stay in the city for that."

"You're missing the point, Clark; I _love_ Metropolis. It's my home. I can't just leave it, and if I did you know I'd be miserable."

He sighed resignedly, knowing that she spoke the truth, and it put a damper on his burgeoning new career plans. "Ok," he finally said.

"Ok what?"

"Ok, I won't make any plans to leave Metropolis altogether, nor will I give up work at the _Daily Planet_…at least not just yet. But I want to consider the alternatives of what's out there for me job-wise and I'd like you to support me. Will you agree to that?"

She gave it a moment's thought. "Ok."

* * *

**3:17 AM. **"Why do all our best conversations always take place at night?" Lois asked randomly. 

"Hmm?" He peered over at her with sleep-filled eyes.

"You, me, us, why do we have our most revelatory conversations at night?"

"How do you figure?"

"Well, this exchange didn't get started until the evening…then there was the night we reconciled after I discovered who you really were for the second time, that was a PM discussion too…then there was the time in Niagara Falls, which was continued later on over at the Fortress, when I learned who you really were for the _first _time and when Jason was conceived…"

He smiled fondly at the memory before recalling that he was the only one present who _could_ recollect it. Clark looked over at her thoroughly startled. "I thought you didn't remember any of that?"

"I don't, I was just playing the odds based off what you told me back in Metropolis last Fall that that was, um, a 'nighttime conversation' too."

"It was," he said, blushing. Trying to make things less awkward, Clark added, "Maybe we're just nocturnal people, Lois. You know, perhaps we should consider moving to Gotham."

"Ha ha, very funny. Like Batman would let_ you_ move in on _his_ turf…" she grinned drowsily at him, not noticing the absence of a Superman-ly retort.

He studied her sitting there, under the lamplight in the kitchen of his family home. For most people the 60-watt bulb wouldn't do them justice, but for Lois…it bathed her in it's soft yellow light as if it were her aura made visible only to him. He sighed imperceptibly as she casually flicked her head, her chestnut brown hair cascading softly down over her shoulders, when her sparkling eyes looked up and took in his image. Clark pondered the way life could have been for them, the way it should have been, had things not gone so horribly awry all those years ago. He knew he loved her and that it would always only be her, yet he knew from experience that in their case love was just not enough.

He sat thinking a moment longer before asking her, "Why must things always be so hard for us, Lois?"

She answered him without missing a beat, as if she'd been expecting him to ask her that question all of her life. "Because if they weren't hard than we'd be taking them for granted."

* * *

They finally dragged themselves up to bed shortly after 4 AM, the last seven hours' of discussion doing much to clear the air while leaving them extraordinarily exhausted. At the top of the stairs Lois reached up on tiptoe to give Clark a peck on the cheek before turning to her room, leaving him in the hallway to marvel at how lucky he was to have her in his life. 

And as he slept on in the early morning hours he didn't have a single nightmare.


	52. Chapter 52

_**Smallville, KS**_**, March 26, 2008.** Clark awoke the next morning a little after 10 AM; late by the Kent Family Farm standards. He trod down to the kitchen in his plaid pajama pants and an old Smallville High P.E. t-shirt and stumbled into the kitchen still groggy with sleep.

Martha handed him a cup of coffee as he picked his way over to the table. "Good Morning to you too," she said as he gulped the hot liquid down.

"Mmmm," was all he could muster. Clark vaguely recalled a time when getting four hours of sleep was considered excessive, and coffee was a beverage whose stimulants barely tickled his senses. His body now craved the warmth of his bed, but he let the heat and caffeine of the brown brew suffice instead.

"Up late last night?" Martha asked, looking over from the sink where she was doing dishes.

He put the cup down and met her eye. "Or early, depending on how you look at it."

"I see…" she turned back to the sink, debating whether or not to push her luck and continue the conversation. "And how are you _feeling_ today, Clark?"

"I'm feeling…better…" he told her hesitantly. Martha brought the tea mug she was drying over from the counter and sat down across from her son, much like how Lois had sat across from him just a few hours before.

"Better better, or just better?"

He knew that she would skirt around the issue surreptitiously like this, asking the questions without really _asking_ the questions, and he decided to stop beating around the bush.

"I feel like…" he sought a way to accurately describe it. "I feel like…like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, Mom." Martha's face brightened. "Don't get me wrong, I'm still not…" he sighed, frustrated at his inability to find the right words. "Mom, I'm still not _all_ better. I'm still angry, I'm still afraid, and I'm still powerless, physically and otherwise. But as Lois would say, last night was a breakthrough—and for the first time in a long time I feel a little bit like the old me."

"Oh Clark…" Martha said, her eyes brimming. She understood that the marks those men left on her son wouldn't just fade with the sunlight, and that it would take much longer for him to heal mentally than it would physically, even when he refused to acknowledge the truth himself. She was just glad to finally hear him say it, to have him realize that his recovery wasn't going to be like flicking on a light switch…_it's more like a dimmer…_she thought to herself as she watched him take another sip of coffee._ Slow and steady, then voilá! You have light._ _And last night you and Lois just moved that dimmer into first position…_

She reached out to try and slip her hand over his and, like a startled animal, he flinched. It hurt her to watch that flicker of pain cross his face whenever one of them initiated contact…it hurt her more than she let on, or so she believed. However, today she wasn't going to let him back away from her touch. Martha got up from her chair and moved to the other side of the table, taking his face in her hands and turning it up and forcing him to look at her.

"I never gave up on you, Son, and I never WILL give up on you. Whatever you have to work through we'll work through _together_…" she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, brushing away the hair that fell in front of his face. "You're not alone in this, Clark, and you never were." With a last loving touch she relinquished her hold on her boy and took a step back.

"I know, Mom…I know that now."

* * *

The days following Lois and Clark's heart-to-heart saw the mood on the Kent Farm shift; where once the tone had been almost mournful as the three shuffled around one another in their day-to-day routines, now it was alive…not exactly cheerful, but certainly more vibrant than it had been since that fateful September day. The change in Clark's demeanor certainly did much to improve the situation, and although he would still slip into his despondent moods, these slips were fewer and farther between than before. The prospect of Jason's visit to the Farm for his school vacation also added to the improved atmosphere of the place, and gave them all something to look forward to.

* * *

_**Smallville, KS, **_**March 29, 2008.** Lois meandered around to the back of the barn where he was standing fifty feet away from an old crate with a tin can perched on top. Unbeknownst to him, she stood behind him and beside the structure, watching him practice with his powers unobserved. 

Super-speed was not an issue; it was just a matter of building up his endurance after spending so many months cooped up in a small space, so he took to running laps around the Farm in the morning when he wouldn't risk exposure. He didn't dare practice using his speed in the house given that his super-hearing was still out of commission—if he couldn't hear his Mother or Lois or even Shelby, he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't speed past and knock them over or just run them over entirely. It was better to work-out out-of-doors.

Clark's strength was still fickle, but his super-breath and his visual abilities all appeared to be in working order. He hadn't flown or hovered since his phone call with Jason, but he chalked that up to the fact that it had been the last of his abilities to manifest themselves in his teenage years, and it would again be the last to manifest itself during his rehabilitation.

He stood there concentrating on the can, allowing all of his frustration and rage from the last seven months build up behind his eye-balls, before his laser sight targeted the piece of tin and heated it to the melting point. Then, just as it began to sag and re-shape, he would inhale deeply and exhale coolly, freezing the can in its new form to the top of the wood. However, his aim wasn't as good as it once was, and occasionally he'd have to run over to put out a small brush fire that had ignited a few feet beyond the crate, but it had improved drastically in the last forty-eight hours.

After watching him for some time, she finally called out to him. "So, what's in the box?"

He jumped. "L-Lois!?! GEEZ! You scared me!"

"Sorry, I thought maybe you…" she tapped her ear to illustrate the point.

"No, that…" he tapped his ear, "…hasn't returned yet. I have to say though, I'm rather enjoying the silence."

"But then how will you hear…?" she didn't finish the question though, as the subject of his return as Superman was still up in the air. She changed the topic. "So, you didn't answer me; what's in the box?" Clark broke his gaze with her and turned back toward the crate, inhaling and holding his breath while channeling his energy into seeing _beyond_ the nailed planks of wood.

"I think…it looks like…yes, there it is…It's some old riding equipment that Mom stored away, I think from when I was a kid. She's a bit sentimental like that sometimes."

"I see." She looked around at the back of the barn, absently staring at the chipping red paint before asking, "How long have you been out here practicing?"

He turned back around to face her. "About forty-five minutes or so, why?"

"What do you say you take a break and go on a walk with me?" Clark shrugged his shoulders, hesitant to give up on the progress he was making. "Please?" she tried again.

"Ok."

She led him off and away from the farmhouse and they ambled along silently for about ten minutes, a small gap forming between them. Clark could tell there was something on her mind and he grew slightly impatient waiting for her to work up the courage to tell him what it was.

"So, was there a reason why you wanted to go for a stroll?"

"What? A girl can't just enjoy the pleasure of your company?" she replied, winking at him impishly.

"Lois…"

"You know you sounded like Ricky Ricardo just then," she couldn't help but laugh at her own wit.

He smiled. "Yeah? Well, it's obvious you got some sort of 'splainin' to do, so what's up?"

"Alright fine. Since you brought it up there's two things I wanted to discuss with you, neither of which I think you're going to like hearing."

Clark grew grave, a myriad number of thoughts running through his mind. _Is Jason alright? Does she not love me anymore? Things changed too much, didn't they? I'm not the same person I was before…Oh no…_

Lois persisted, ignoring the anxious cloud that came over his features. "I need to go back to Metropolis," she blurted out.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. "I know…we talked about this already, remember? You're going to go back a few days before Jason's vacation to go get him, and bring him back here. I know he's too young to fly on a plane alone and I completely understand; I'm only sorry I can't bring you both out here myself…"

"No, Clark, it's not that. I need to go back to Metropolis and resume my life and my work."

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked down at her, his face a stony mask of barely controlled emotions. _I knew it, she's leaving me…_

"I'm not leaving you, Clark," she said, almost as if she were reading his mind. "It's just…it's so many things. First, there's Jason. I've been gone for six weeks; that's the longest we've ever been apart and I know he's being a brave little trooper but he needs me just as much as I need him. That's not to say we don't need you too, we do, we _absolutely_ do, but we need you when you're at 100 percent, not seventy-five. What I mean is that this has _nothing_ to do with your powers, Clark; we just want you to take all the time you need to get really and truly well, that's all." Lois let loose a sigh.

"Then there's also Perry to contend with. I've trespassed on his good graces enough these last few months, what with taking a leave of absence from the _Planet_ to join the search for you in addition to foisting extended babysitting duty on him. He's been kind enough to do it but I know he wants to get back to his own life too—not to mention that Richard just accepted a position with the _Planet's_ West Coast affiliate and I want to say good-bye to him properly before he makes the move out there permanently.

"Lastly, I need to get back to work. I miss the _Planet_, Clark; I miss the rush of the bullpen and the thrill of a chase and the sight of my name on the byline of a major story. Which kind of brings me to the second thing I wanted to discuss with you…"

"And what's that?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She sighed, knowing that this was the part of their conversation that he was going to like least. "When I left for Chicago I told Perry where I was going and why. He didn't run with the story, Clark, I made him promise as much, and he didn't badger me into getting him the first post-crisis interview like every other major news outlet in the world..." _That can't be the same Perry White I know, because the Chief I know would have given her the usual 'I'm-Your-Editor-Do-As-I-Say" spiel…_he thought before tuning into her again. "He didn't give me any of the usual 'I'm-Your-Editor' shtick because I promised him a Superman exclusive when I _did_ go back."

He let loose a sigh. "I see…" She didn't know for certain, but she suspected that he wasn't exactly thrilled about operating under his alter-ego at the moment, considering where it had gotten him in the last several months. Lois stood there with her hands across her chest and waited, not knowing how to gauge his reaction…or non-reaction, as it were.

Clark knew she wasn't deliberately trying to hurt him, so he asked her slyly, "So, you're here for an interview?", mocking their first meeting on the _Daily Planet_ rooftop after his return from his failed trip to Krypton.

Lois grinned devilishly. "Ugh, You! Who knew you could be such a wise ass?! If anyone from the _Planet_ ever saw you acting this way they'd rush to the windows to see if pigs were flying!"

He smirked. "Well, Lois, the part I played in the office was part of my disguise. Clark Kent had to be uncoordinated and klutzy so Superman could be graceful; Clark Kent had to be timid and quiet so Superman's demeanor and voice could be imposing; Clark Kent had to wear glasses and be a wimp so Superman could be…well, super, for lack of a better term."

"And this right now?"

"This is me when the three piece suit comes off." They both stopped talking and walked along a few paces, tacitly acknowledging that he never said anything about leaving the spandex suit behind. Lois resumed the conversation.

"So does this mean you're ok with me going back to Metropolis then?"

"Yes…and no. I understand _why_ you have to go back, but I'm not ready to make that journey myself and I'm going to miss you when you're gone."

Her eyes misted over a little. They hadn't said _those_ three little words to each other…yet. But the admission from him that he was going to miss her spelled it out just as clearly, or so she thought.

"You're going to miss me?" she asked, yearning to hear him say it again.

"Of course I am!" his voice dropped a little as he spun around to face her, looking her intently in the eye to reinforce the meaning behind what he was about to say. "Lois, I love you."

"I…I…" Clark smiled, marveling at how he could render the indomitable Lois Lane speechless, until she finally re-discovered her voice. "I love you too."

He didn't hesitate, he didn't flinch, he just bent down and caught her lips in his. Lois responded with an eagerness that equaled his ardor and they lost themselves in the passionate embrace for what felt like hours before surfacing for air. They both wanted more, yet stopped themselves short.

She looked him in the eye. "Any idea _when_ you'll come back to the City?"

"I don't know," he replied, gazing into her eyes with a look full of unrequited longing. He caught himself then, knowing they couldn't be together in the way that they wanted, not yet, and added "It's like you said; I won't do anyone any good if I'm not at 100 percent, and I don't know how long it will take me to get there."

"I know…" she said, placing her hand gently on his bicep. To her surprise, he didn't back away from her touch.

"When are you planning on heading back?" he finally asked her.

"Most likely Wednesday. I need to get things in order at the apartment and at the _Planet_ before Jason's vacation so that way I can get straight back to work once school starts up for him again. We'll be flying back out here together on the 12th."

"I can't wait to see him," he said, a paternal twinkle sparkling in his eye. She linked her arm loosely in his and they turned to head back to the Farm house.

"Neither can I, Clark…neither can I…"


	53. Chapter 53

_**Smallville, KS,**_** April 1, 2008. **Lois rapped loudly on the bathroom door and demanded to be let in. 

"CLARK! Quit hogging the bathroom! Is this some kind of farm boy April Fool's Day joke, because if it is it isn't FUNNY!! Come on…you're taking longer than I usually do, and that's really saying something…"

"Um, just a minute!" he yelped at her, followed by silence.

"Honestly…" she grumbled, leaning her back against the wall opposite the bathroom door. Lois wished _she_ was the one with the x-ray vision, though she had a vague suspicion that she knew what was going on behind _that_ door…

"Morning, Lois," Martha called out as she walked by with a basket of freshly folded towels and bed sheets.

"Morning."

"What's the matter?"

"It's Clark," she said. A look of concern crossed Martha's face. "Oh no, it's nothing like that, he's just…well he's hogging the bathroom!"

The older woman laughed outright at Lois' indignation before continuing on down the hall.

"Hmph!" she snorted, turning back and glaring at the door. "CLARK…!" Lois was about to start in on another tirade when the door swung open.

He stood there, practically filling up the doorway. Her eyes traveled up his blue jeans to his red flannel shirt, and as they meandered on upward she thought to herself, _he's going to look like a lumberjack with that big bushy beard of his…_

Only there was no beard. It was gone. His hair was trimmed too, and slightly mussed in typical Clark Kent fashion. She openly gawked at him before saying, "It's nice to have you back."

He frowned at her, not sure how to take that. "I've been right here, Lois, I just had a beard is all."

"No, it was more than that." She stopped and re-examined his beard-less image once more, stepping closer and placing a palm on his smooth cheek. "I knew that underneath all that fur you were still there, but it was almost as if it were weighing you down...like it was your own red badge of courage, only it was facial hair."

Clark stood thinking about that a moment before sighing and replying softly, "Yes I suppose you're right."

"Is that why _you_ think you kept it for so long?" she asked curiously.

"Well there was that, and, you know, the wonky heat vision thing…I didn't want to go burning down the bathroom just because I attempted to shave. Replacing it is just not in my budget." He winked at her.

"Wonky? Clark Kent, did you just say wonky?"

"What? I used it correctly, didn't I?" he asked anxiously.

She stifled a giggle. "You did, but that sounds about as strange coming from you as 'swell' does coming from me." She began full out laughing, unable to contain it any longer. He joined her and she leaned in for a hug, her cheek resting against his strong broad chest. Reflexively he wrapped his arms around her, and they stood there content in each other's embrace.

It took only a moment before Clark realized that he was _holding_ onto Lois, and fearing that he would hurt her he immediately pulled away, stepping back into the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" she asked, noting the sudden end of their closeness and the panic written on his face.

"Nothing, I, uh…" he put his hand to his chin, "I missed a spot. Excuse me," and he slammed the door shut on her.

* * *

Later on Martha watched as Lois prepared the tools of her trade on the kitchen table, awaiting Clark's arrival for their interview. "So is this how you two always did it?" she ventured to ask. 

"I'm sorry?" Lois replied, flipping open a half-filled notepad and absently nibbling on the end of a pen.

"The Superman interviews, is this how you did it in the past?"

She pulled the pen out of her mouth and jotted down another question. "No, not exactly. Very few of our interviews were of the scheduled type…they were usually more…impromptu. Oftentimes he'd find me."

"That's because I knew you'd jump off a building or something to get my attention if I _didn't_ show up," he quipped as he strode into the room.

The two women turned to look at him. He stood taller and walked more confidently than he had in recent days. His hair was slicked back a bit, but without the trademark curl, and his arms were folded across his chest in a classic Superman pose across his red flannel shirt. "Miss Lane," he said mockingly, "Shall we get on with the interview?"

She smiled impishly back at him. "Well, _Superman,_ do you want to start off with the easy questions or the hard questions?"

"There are easy questions?" he asked as he took the seat opposite her.

"Not so much easy as_ easier_ than the others…"

"Whatever you think is best, Lois."

"Alright then, we'll just jump on in," she flipped on the recorder, "Superman, our readers want to know, how are you feeling since you were rescued this past February?"

"Well, Miss Lane, my recuperation has been progressing smoothly, and I appreciate everyone's well-wishes and support as I take this time to recover from the ordeal."

She flipped the page to another question, knowing he didn't want to elaborate more on the physical or emotional aspect of his convalescence. "What would you like to say to the people involved in the Metropolis-based Task Force that worked to free you, as well as those around the country and abroad?"

"I can never begin to find words enough to thank all the people it took to locate and rescue me. I am forever grateful for their help and I hope that one day in the near future I will be able to meet with them and thank them properly for all of their efforts. They are true heroes, and I believe that I would not be here today if it weren't for them and the work that they did."

Lois finished writing his response down on her notepad before asking the next question. "Do you have any plans to return to 'active duty' in the near future?" Martha stopped drying the dishes again and she and Lois stared straight at him to see how he would answer.

Clark cleared his throat. "I will be returning to 'active duty', as you've termed it, when I feel that I am best able to serve the people; which, regrettably, I cannot do at this present time. However, I have been keeping an eye and an ear on situations developing both at home and abroad and I am happy to say that the world seems to have taken my…" he coughed, deciding to invoke a euphemism instead of calling his ordeal what it was and thereby drawing more attention to his imprisonment, "…'time away' to heart, as they have stepped up in their own relief efforts, aiding their fellow man during a period of time when I could not. For that I am thankful and I hope that it is a trend that will continue on into the future should I resume my duties."

Lois quickly dropped her pen and stopped the tape. "_Should_ you resume your duties?"

He put a hand on the table as if to steady himself. "Or when. You can change it to when if you want to use that quote in the article."

"But that's not what you meant. I'm not quibbling over semantics here because I'm afraid of my journalistic integrity being called into question, I'm asking because I know you're…well, that you're _uncomfortable_ being Superman right now, but I didn't think you were going to walk away from your alter-ego entirely."

"Well, Lois, let's take a look around and see where flying in blue spandex has gotten me, shall we? I'm sitting in my Mother's kitchen, operating at half-capacity because I'm recovering from prolonged Kryptonite exposure at the hands of my human enemies. And, funnily enough, my biological parents sent me here to protect the very people who seem to hate me so much that they would rather torture and KILL ME instead!!!" He flung his hands up exasperatedly into the air. "I should think that that's not exactly an inducement to go back to 'work'!" The dark cloud started to reappear on his countenance as the confidence and bravado Clark displayed earlier left and he began to slip into a more self-pitying mood.

Lois went from professional to indignant in the blink of an eye. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! Lex Luthor gets the better of you ONCE and you want to call it quits?! I thought you were made of tougher stuff then that!!!" she huffed. "Clark, did you know that Al's been shot three times in the line of duty?! THREE TIMES!!! And yet he still reports to work everyday, protecting the people of Metropolis, because he says it's what he was 'born to do'...but you! You get into one situation that you couldn't resolve just by flexing your muscles and you…"

"**LOIS, THAT'S ENOUGH**!" Martha said forcefully, dropping and smashing the plate that she had been in the process of putting away on the counter. The noise startled the two young people at the table. Lois looked at her as if she were about to cry; she was angry at the whole situation, but she was even more upset with herself for rousing the gentle woman's ire and ill-will, and she bolted out of the room and up the stairs to the guest room before they could stop her.

Clark stared wide-eyed at his Mother. "Are you alright, Mom? I'm sorry you had to hear that…"

"No, I'm sorry, Clark," she said quickly, abandoning the broken plate and walking over to the table to sit down next to him. "I shouldn't have lost my temper with her like that…"

He interjected. "It's ok, she'll understand. I'm just glad you're on my side in this decision."

Martha started straight at him. "I was going to say, I shouldn't have lost my temper with her, but she was going about this all wrong. She can't badger you back into being Superman."

Clark thought his jaw would come unhinged and hit the floor. "Wh-what? You mean…you mean you think…?"

"Son, I don't care if you do or don't want to be Superman anymore. Superman is a figure, a symbol for all the good that can be done in this world. If you don't want to don the suit again then that's your choice and I'll freely accept whatever decision you make. But it isn't in your nature to abandon your calling completely…whether you take another name, or cut back on who and when you help out, or how, there's going to come a time when somebody needs you and you'll be there. It's just what you do—even before you got your powers you were doing it, remember? So you can try and run away from it as long as you like but sooner or later you'll go back to helping folks, just like you always have…and whether you want to ignore it or not it IS a part of you…"

He let out a sigh. "Part of me knows you're right, but can you really blame me for being so hesitant? And can you honestly say that you're eager to see me flying around out there again? Can you?"

She gave a shake of her head. "No, I can't, and I'll always worry about you, even when your powers come back in full; it's a Mother's prerogative to worry. Nor would I want to change you, even if I could—this is precisely what your Father and I signed up for that day we found you out in the cornfields." She got up and put a hand against his cheek lovingly, then stooped down to pick up the broken dish pieces. Before she left the room she stopped and turned back to face him.

"Clark? We all have to learn to take the bad with the good. What happened to you was horrible, but don't let it mar all the wonderful things you've done and the lives you've touched with the good that's in you." Her eyes glanced over to the cork board next to the telephone and he followed her gaze to find a few old _Daily Planet_ articles tacked up there.

"Superman Saves Bus Full of Schoolchildren", "Mudslide Threatened Peruvian Village: Superman Stems Tide of Destruction", "Brushfire Engulfing African Plain: Man of Steel Aids Local Firefighting Effort", "Helping the Homeless on Thanksgiving: Superman Serves", the headlines read. He thought back over all the pictures he'd received, the handwritten notes of appreciation, the hearty handshakes from grateful almost-victims. He had had a rather fortunate career as Superman until he'd tangled with Lex Luthor and Nick Finneran, and he knew he shouldn't throw it all away because of the two madmen; but the memories of those 170 days of imprisonment were still in the forefront of his mind, making it difficult to contemplate putting himself in a position where he would be vulnerable to attacks like that in the future.

"I'd better go apologize to Lois," Martha said, depositing the broken dish parts in the trash. But Clark was too far gone in his memories to hear her.


	54. Chapter 54

_**Wichita, KS**_**, April 2, 2008, 8 AM. **The two women had patched things up between them the evening before as they worked to fill the old Kent suitcases with Lois' belongings. Now they were hugging and kissing each other good-bye on the front porch as Clark loaded up the truck to drive Lois to the airport in Wichita and a direct flight back to Metropolis. The two of them spent most of the journey bouncing along in the rickety old truck in silence until they came to a standstill in line at a toll booth; each chose the same moment to speak up. 

"Look, Lois, I…"

"Clark, I really shouldn't have…"

"…I didn't mean to blind-side you with the thought, it's just that I…"

"…yelled at you like that yesterday and I'm sorry for how I've behaved…"

"…I'm sorry I got angry with you, it's just that…"

"…It's your life and you should live it how you want to."

"…It's my life and I want to…wait, what?"

Lois and Clark looked at each other in amazement at the fact that they were in complete agreement for a change.

She spoke first. "I'm sorry, Clark, I didn't mean to get so angry; you have every right not to go back to working as Superman if you don't want to. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"I'm sorry too," he replied softly as he turned to look at her properly. "I haven't made up my mind one way or the other yet, but I shouldn't have blindsided you like that." He tentatively relinquished his grip on the wheel and placed a hand over hers. Neither spoke again until they passed the toll booth and saw signs directing them to the airport. "I'm glad we got this off our chests before you got on that plane; I was afraid you'd go back to Metropolis still mad with me."

"Me too. I hate it when we're angry at each other, it just feels like more time that's being wasted."

"I know," he said with a sigh and a shake of the head. _Too much time has been wasted and lost already…_

They pulled into the parking garage and found an open spot on the third floor. Lois disengaged herself from his arm as he got out of the truck cab to collect her suitcases and she re-attached herself as they entered the elevator and headed down to the check-in terminal.

"Do you have your boarding pass?" he asked as they disembarked and strode toward the check-in counter.

"Yes."

"And your ID?"

"Yes."

Clark waited patiently behind her as the stewardess checked Lois in and took the luggage to be added with the rest of the aircraft's cargo.

"What about a sweater in case you get cold on the plane?"

"I've got it right here," she said, indicating the one currently tied around her waist.

"Do you need any money for a snack or anything?"

"Clark, I just ate one of your Mother's world-famous breakfasts; I could go a month without eating and still not be hungry."

He shrugged his shoulders and grinned sheepishly. "Guess she's just used to feeding a growing farm boy like me." He waited a moment before asking another question. "And Richard knows what time your flight's getting in and is picking you up at the airport, right?"

"Yes, he and Jason will be there for me when I land." She gave him a trying smile as he opened his mouth again.

"Are you sure you didn't leave anything at the house…"

Lois turned to face him before getting into line at the security checkpoint, taking both his hands in hers. "Clark, look at me. I'm going to be fine. This isn't the first time I've flown, remember?" she said with a sly wink. "Besides, I'll be back with Jason to see you in just ten days."

"I know, it's just…I worry about you, you know? I can't help it, I've always worried about you, and if something happens to you back in Metropolis I won't be able to get to you…"

She looked him square in the eyes. "I've gotten along without your supercharged-self's help for awhile now, and I think I can manage the next week and a half on my own. I promise you that Mad Dog Lane won't go _looking_ for trouble, so stop fretting about me and start focusing on getting better, ok?"

He stared down at her and got lost in her gaze as she spoke so earnestly to him. Clark stopped over-thinking and over-worrying and let his body act of it's own accord, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her so passionately in the middle of the terminal that she dropped everything in her arms so as to properly return the favor. Lois let her hands run wildly through his hair as he picked her up off her feet and pressed her closer to him; he ran one hand up toward the nape of her neck while keeping one firmly planted on her lower back in order to brace her for the impact of his fervent caresses. She stopped mussing his hair and clasped her hands around his neck, holding onto him as if to the mast of a sinking ship, not wanting to break the spell of the moment and board the plane back to the city. They continued like that for several minutes until Clark finally opened his eyes, acutely aware of the silence around them that was punctuated by the occasional chuckle or gasp from the surprised on-lookers.

"Uh, Lois?" he said, trying to draw her attention away from nibbling on his lower lip. She stopped and looked around as he slowly put her down. Both had satisfied smiles on their flushed and embarrassed faces as the other passengers skirted around them and went about their business. Clark bent down to pick up the belongings Lois had dropped in the midst of their ardor and as he stood back up he leaned in to whisper in her ear. The scent of her flowery perfume tingled in his nose as he said, "I love you", the three words sending chills up and down her spine. Lois kissed him once more on the lips before turning away and joining the queue, leaving him enamored and speechless.

As she neared the front of the line she turned to gaze at him once more with a seductive look in her eye. She whispered, "I know," in a husky voice meant only for his ears, and Clark felt his face grow red at her innuendo. It took a moment longer before he realized that he had heard her as clearly as if she had been standing before him, when in reality she was a good twenty to thirty feet away. Lois had turned her back on him to face the security personnel and didn't see him wince as every sound within a fifty mile radius bombarded his senses. He struggled to maintain his balance while not letting the cacophony bowl him over, and kept a brave smile on for as long as she was in his sight. She got through the monitors and turned to wave at him one last time before rounding the corner, disappearing from view.

He had planned to stay and watch her plane take-off until it was beyond even his enhanced eyesight, but the noise proved to be far too distracting. Clark crept to a nearby bench and sat down just as an aircraft from another terminal took-off. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out and frantically grabbed at his ears in the hopes of muffling the sound, but that only succeeded in making everything sound as if it were underwater. He strained his ear drums to focus only on the beating of his own heart, forcing his breathing to slow down and even out so that the rhythm of that masterful organ would also be steady and even. Ten minutes later he got up and made it to the parking garage as quickly as he dared without arousing suspicion, before turning the key in the ignition and driving back to Smallville, trying to find some relative peace and quiet.

The ride home seemed interminable. It took a great deal of effort on his part to keep the old truck upright on the road. Every squeak and clank of the engine's gears resounded in his ears, as did that of every other car around him. He heard radios blasting a smorgasbord of tunes, caught snatches of intimate cell phone conversations, and even picked up the mad thumping of a hidden animal's heartbeat as it lay in the safety of the brush, having narrowly escaped becoming road kill. Even the rocks and dirt crunching under the truck's tire wheels as he turned down the driveway threatened to bring about a super-migraine. He parked alongside the farm house and entered through the back door, the sound of the television informing him of his Mother's presence in the living room.

"IN OTHER NEWS TODAY, THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES…" the television blared.

Martha quickly piped up and spoke over the newscaster. "OH THERE YOU ARE, CLARK! DID YOU AND LOIS GET A CHANCE TO MAKE-UP BEFORE SHE LEFT?" He didn't answer her, and instead held a finger to his lips as he strode over and turned the TV off. He went off in search of a pad of paper and a pen as he heard Shelby's footsteps on the stairs and Martha's heartbeat pick up. The clacking of her knitting needles as she put down the new sweater she was working on told him she would be right behind him.

"WHAT'S THE MATTER? ARE YOU ALRIGHT, SON? CLARK? CLARK, WHAT'S WRONG?" she asked anxiously, following him into the kitchen as he rummaged through the junk drawer. He held the finger again to his lips as he thought, _Why can I never find a blasted pen when I need one?! If only I could take a couple of aspirin to get rid of this headache too I'd be all set…aha, gotcha!_ Clark grabbed the pen and sat down at the kitchen table to write. Martha opened up the glasses that hung on the chain around her neck and put them to her face.

She read her son's note: "Mom—Yes Lois and I made up, just before my super-hearing came back at the airport."

"OH DEAR," she said involuntarily before clasping her hands to her mouth. Martha vividly recalled when his super-hearing had come in the first time, and how hard he and Jonathan worked to separate and tune out the sounds one-by-one until he could go about his daily routine without the flap of a passing bird's wings making him jump. She wondered how he was going to handle it this time around when Clark provided the answer.

"I'm going to go out to the West field and see if I can't sort the sounds out like Dad taught me," he wrote, passing the pad back to her. She nodded. "I'll try and be back for dinner," he hastily added before getting up to walk out the back door. Martha grabbed the pad of paper and wrote something else down before following him. He heard the scratching of the pen and the scraping of the chair as she eased it away from the kitchen table and he turned back to face her.

"Don't forget your warm sweater and winter coat," she wrote, looking over his long sleeve shirt and jeans semi-disapprovingly. Not wanting to argue he smiled at her before speeding up the stairs to throw on the sweater, then stopped in the front hallway for his jacket. He paused only long enough to kiss his Mother good-bye before bolting out the back doorway, her hair flying back from the breeze created by his wake. The windy exit relieved her anxious mood somewhat, reminding her of her speed-demon boy of yore. She returned to the living room and tried to find a quieter activity to occupy her hours, one that would be less grating on Clark's hearing, and picked up an old copy of Louisa May Alcott's novel Jo's Boys.

_As a Mother, Josephine March had nothing on me,_ she mused as she flipped to the first chapter of her old favorite.

* * *

Clark sat in the middle of the unplowed field, the sounds of the world bombarding his newly re-heightened auditory senses. He inhaled deeply, the scent of the wet earth filling his nostrils, then exhaled slowly and concentrated on sorting and distinguishing what it was he was hearing, an exercise his Father had taught him long ago. 

The most predominant thing he heard at that moment was the voice of Mr. Hutchins down the road, cursing and kicking his tractor as he struggled to get it into working order. The contraption would roar to life only to splutter and shut down in a few seconds time, and Clark quickly discerned that one of the pistons wasn't fully closing. He zoomed in and out on the noise, drawing it close so that he thought both man and machine were standing right beside him (instead of six acres away), then forcing it out to the very periphery of his range before bringing it back to it's rightful place in the barn down the road. This measure was repeated for some time until Clark felt comfortable pushing it permanently into his non-essential circle of hearing, and he picked out the next sound.

Out in the field with his eyes closed he knew no sense of time. Noises came and went as he strove to differentiate and detain them. He did this with a crow flying overhead, a car traveling down the interstate ten miles away, a radio playing in another neighbor's kitchen, a gopher burrowing out a new home underground, a group of teenagers gossiping as they left Smallville High, and lastly with his Mother's steadily beating heart. When at last he was able to control the din of the world around him he opened his eyes and discovered that the stars twinkled in the sky above him. Clark stood up slowly and stretched in the midst of the vacant field before speeding straight up to the back door.

Martha felt the gush of wind and heard the back door slam shut as her son returned home. She tiptoed out of the living room holding the pad of paper in front of her like a flag of surrender. "How are you feeling?" it read.

"I'm fine, Mom, really. I think I've got this ability back and under my control, and it only took…" he glanced at the clock to find that it was closing in on 10 PM, "…twelve hours to get it sorted away. Not bad for a day's work if you ask me." He smiled down at her.

"Not bad at all." She reached up and pulled him down to give him a hug and a kiss, both of which he readily accepted. "Are you hungry?" she asked as he let her go, moving toward the plate she made up for him in the refrigerator.

Clark gave her a sly wink before replying, "Can Kryptonians fly?" He tipped his head back and roared with laughter at his own wit as she chuckled along with him.

It wasn't the sarcasm that Martha was reveling in, but more the change that was slowly and steadily creeping over her son, making him more like his old self with each passing day.


	55. Chapter 55

_**Smallville, KS**_**, April 12, 2008.** Perry ran with the Superman exclusive the minute Lois deposited it in his hot little hands (with the requisite quote change approved of by the Man of Steel himself), and that edition of the _Planet_ was one of the fastest to fly off the shelves; they even had to run a special second edition to capitalize on the piece's appeal. It's success guaranteed Lois' job and her boss' continued good will toward her once she returned from her vacation with Jason to visit Clark Kent out in Smallville. 

The ten days that passed between Lois' departure and her return visit with Jason saw quite a change come over the Kent Farm. In-between strength-training sessions designed to help restore Clark's powers to full force, he and Martha made sure to give the old homestead a thorough spring cleaning. The two of them also planned a few activities that the whole family could enjoy together, with Clark making sure to take the opportunity to make a few plans of his own when his mother was otherwise occupied. In the early evening when the work was done he would call to check in on Lois and Jason in Metropolis, informing them as to how his recovery was going (he'd only had two nightmares since she left) and inquiring about how each of their days had gone as well. It sounded like Lois was having a hard time keeping their super-kid still as the excitement over the impending vacation mounted with each passing day.

That Saturday dawned bright and early, and Clark woke up with the sun in a heightened state of anticipation for the noontime arrivals. He was so giddy he felt as if he could run to the airport to meet them, but thought better of it when he considered the logistics of running back while hiding from prying eyes, not to mention carrying two people plus luggage in tow. He swung his legs over the bed toward the window and stood up to stretch, taking his shirt off so as to better absorb the sun's restorative rays, then rubbing his bare and toned stomach. His skin was no longer pocked with purple bruises and he no longer ached when he moved, two outward indications that the physical trauma was almost behind him. In fact, the only visible sign remaining was a light pink scar on his left forearm, a souvenir from Luthor's tête-à-tête while wielding the Kryptonite knife.

Clark changed into a pair of sweatpants and a ratty long sleeve shirt from Met. U. before running his usual laps around the farm, a task that was becoming easier and easier with each day. As he ran he pictured Jason; running alongside him in the fields, playing catch with him in the yard, coloring pictures with him in the living room…before Clark knew it he was running so fast he'd nearly dug a trench around the property. Upon entering the back door after his work-out he found that his mother had breakfast all set and ready and he leaned over to kiss her cheek as she sipped her coffee. The meal passed by quietly, as each was lost in their thoughts and waited on bated breath for the arrival of their guests. Martha washed and Clark dried the dishes as the clock chimed 8:00 AM, and he zipped upstairs to shower and change clothes before coming back down into the living room. She sat there watching the news until she heard the truck's keys jingling in Clark's hand behind her.

"I'm going to head out to the airport now, Mom, I'll be back in a bit."

She put her knitting down and ignored Al Roker on the television. "But Clark, their plane isn't due to land for another four hours! Aren't you leaving just a bit early?"

"Maybe, but I can't just sit around here and twiddle my thumbs; I'll go crazy! Besides, there's nothing else to be done around here before they arrive, so…" he eyed the door anxiously.

"Ok ok, go! Don't let me keep you…" but before the words were even out of her mouth he was out the door and she heard the truck engine roar to life, "…from your family" she finished softly to herself.

* * *

The drive to Wichita took no time at all and he spent a good three hours pacing the corridors of the airport, making sure to keep his speed in check as he walked. Clark finally calmed himself down long enough to get a cup of coffee and a newspaper at one of the airport's cafes and was sitting there reading the _Wichita Star_ when he heard Jason's voice. 

"But MOOOOM, he's_ waiting for us_!" he whined loudly from inside the plane.

She sighed. "I know, Honey, but we have to wait our turn. Other people are getting off the plane and meeting loved ones too. It'll just be a few minutes longer."

Clark heard him flop back in his seat in a huff as Lois got up to get the overhead luggage. "I still don't understand why he couldn't come get us in Metropolis," he whispered in an annoyed tone under his breath.

"JASON!" she admonished him sharply. He heard the anger in her voice and noted the increase in her heart rate, as she feared that someone might have overheard him. "We discussed this at HOME! Now stop that!" A few moments of silence went by before Lois spoke again. "Ok, it's our turn now, so take my hand…" Clark abandoned the paper and coffee and dashed over to the exit where they'd be emerging from.

Eight weeks earlier, Al Henrickson had remarked how he thought Clark would stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of the cornfields of Kansas; ironically he was half right. In amongst the corn Clark felt right at home—it was there that he was at his most natural, where he could be in his element unseen. The corn allowed him freedom of movement and also provided a thick wall of cover from prying eyes. However, it was in the midst of the busy Kansas airport terminal that Clark felt oddly out of place. He found himself towering over everyone else and he felt exposed; standing tall at 6'4" he couldn't help but be noticed by the hordes of shorter people scurrying about. But those feelings soon abated once he caught a glimpse of Lois and Jason.

He plucked the glasses out of his pocket and pushed them up onto his face before trying to catch Lois' eye. When she finally saw him her whole face lit up, and there was no mistaking that their feelings for one another had long ago moved beyond the realm of 'just friendship'. Lois was still stuck in the passenger's only section of the terminal, wading through the crowds with their son in tow, when Jason finally caught sight of Clark too.

"DADDY!!!!" he screamed, wrenching free from Lois' grip and dashing away towards Clark.

"Jas—" but before the words could even escape her lips Clark ran forward to meet him halfway and he scooped the boy up, cradling him in his arms as if he never intended to let him go. When Lois ultimately navigated her way over to them she placed a hand gently on Clark's shoulder and only then did he break contact with his son long enough to look down at her. She saw the redness in his eyes and the wet slicks down his cheeks—he had been crying.

"Hi," she said softly, reaching up on tiptoe for a welcome home kiss.

He obliged her. "Hi," he whispered back when they finally pulled apart.

"Eww gross," Jason said giggling.

"Gross? GROSS? There's nothing gross about that, you…" he tossed the boy up in the air, making him laugh even louder, and Clark couldn't contain the broad grin on his face as Jason squealed in his journey up and down in the air.

"Oh shoot, I meant to take a picture of this!" Lois said, reaching into her purse for one of her disposable cameras.

Clark caught Jason and held him, then used his free hand to tip the glasses to the end of his nose. "It's in your inside zippered pocket."

"I knew you were handy to have around," she replied coyly, pulling out the cardboard contraption. "Ok you two, ready? On the count of 3 say…"

"Excuse me," a passing pilot said, stopping behind Lois and tapping her on the shoulder. "Would you like me to take the picture so all three of you can be in it?"

She looked from the pilot to Clark and back again before replying. "Absolutely." Handing the camera over to her, Lois situated herself beside Clark while he held Jason up in the middle. All three wore the same smile.

"Is this a family reunion?" the woman asked, her face hidden behind the camera as she tried to fit them all in the frame.

"YES!" Clark, Lois and Jason responded simultaneously, just as the flash went off.

* * *

That afternoon they ate a hearty lunch on the farm, with Jason chatting away as he tried to make up for seven and a half months of lost time. When they'd finished putting the dishes in the sink Clark turned to Lois and asked with a smile, "Did you remember to bring those things from my apartment I asked you about?" 

"Of course. They're upstairs in my suitcase…" she said, getting a mouthful of wind as he rushed past to retrieve them.

Martha turned to look at her after handing Jason a cookie. "What was that all abo…?" she started to ask, when Clark returned.

"Son, you might want to put that cookie down," he said.

Jason eyed the cookie, then the adults, before eying the homemade cookie again. The chocolate chips were on the verge of winning out when he asked, "Why?"

"Because I have a surprise for you out in the front yard, and you'll need both hands to use it." Clark winked at Lois who was all smiles, while Martha still wasn't let in on the joke.

The boy didn't need to be told twice and in the blink of an eye the cookie was left abandoned on the table while the back door slammed unceremoniously shut.

"Jason, your jacket!" Lois cried out to spot where he once stood.

"Don't worry, I've got him covered," Clark replied, holding his and Jason's jackets in his hand along with the unopened bag from Lois' suitcase. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the lips. "Do you have the camera ready?"

"Yes, I've got it right here." She patted her sweater pocket. "Come on, Martha, you're going to want to see this…" Lois led the elderly woman out into the hallway behind Clark where they gathered their jackets and followed him outside, waiting patiently on the front porch.

Clark stepped forward and knelt down to Jason's height as the boy came to a sudden halt in the front yard. "What's my surprise?!" he exclaimed eagerly.

"You are an impatient little man, you know that?" Clark replied with a smile and a bop on the boy's nose.

Jason scrunched his face up in concentration. "What's that mean?"

There was a mischievous twinkle in his father's eye as he replied, "It means you're just like your mother."

"Oh."

"Now Jason, you and I both know why I wasn't able to be at your birthday last year…" the child frowned at the recollection, wondering why his Daddy was bringing it up because it made him sad to think about it, "…but I did get you a birthday present, and here it is. Happy Late Birthday!!!" Clark held out the bag before him.

Jason didn't need a second invitation. He tore through the white plastic bag almost as quickly as he tore out the back door a few moments before, and Lois and Martha watched with amused grins on their faces as he put the Metropolis Meteors baseball cap on his head before trying to swing the kid-sized bat while wearing the glove in his left hand. Lois took a picture. Clark picked up his own worn glove off the ground and held the baseball inside.

"Woah there, Kiddo, one at a time! Now, do you want to practice hitting or catching first?"

"Catching!"

The smiles on both father and son's faces were so wide they threatened to encompass the rest of their features. Clark took a few steps back and gently lobbed the ball to Jason, who managed to catch it on the first go. However, he didn't realize his own strength and he sent it flying back over his father's head and halfway down the drive. Clark sprinted after the ball, caught it, and sprinted back to his original place in the front yard in the blink of an eye.

"THAT WAS _SO_ COOL!!! CAN I DO THAT TOO?!" Jason cried out animatedly.

Clark shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? But only here, and only when it's just me, your Mom and your Grandma around, ok? Now here it comes!" He threw the ball a little further this time, almost to the front of the barn, and Jason raced off after it. The ball fell with a thud on the ground next to his feet, his coordination having been thrown off by trying to run and catch at the same time. His face fell.

"Hey now, everyone drops the ball now and again, even me. You just need to practice. Now try and aim the ball right here, directly at me."

The two of them stayed outside playing for several hours. Martha and Lois watched them for a time before retreating inside and out of the cold that the boys barely felt. Only dusk, the promise of another game tomorrow and the scent of hot chocolate brought them back indoors.

* * *

It was a little after 10 that evening and the three of them were in the living room with the end of "Shrek" playing on TV. Martha had excused herself and gone to bed an hour earlier, and Jason had fallen asleep with his head on Clark's lap shortly after his grandmother's departure. Lois sat curled into Clark's side and he had his free hand around her shoulder when the end credits rolled. 

"That was cute," Clark remarked, not wanting to move to turn the tape off.

Lois laughed. "Yeah…I hope you were paying attention, because Jason will be quoting it to you before long, and he'll expect you to know it and quote back." He looked over at her smiling face and drew his arm around her a little tighter, planting a kiss in the middle of her forehead.

"I think I like this part best," he said, pulling back to get a better look at her.

"I like this part too…" she strained her neck up to lock lips with his. Their mouths collided hungrily, and Clark could feel the blood coursing through his veins as well as hear their increased heart rates beating wildly in their chests. Lois stopped nibbling on his lower lip and began kissing him softly along the jaw-line, moving tantalizingly slowly toward the hollow of his neck and making Clark moan ever so slightly.

Just then, Jason stirred on his father's lap, reminding both his parents of his presence.

He locked eyes with Lois. "Hold that thought." In one motion Clark scooped Jason up in his arms and dashed up the stairs, returning before Lois had a chance to even shift her position on the sofa. "It's a good thing we got him into his pajamas _before_ the movie or I would've been five seconds longer. Now, where were we…?"

"Yes, where were we?" she asked seductively, raising an eyebrow at him. He turned to face her more fully.

"I think…" he cupped her cheek in his hand, leaning forward to kiss her anew. It was a passionate clash of lips and tongues that only grew more fervent each time they paused to breathe. She straddled him on the sofa in mid-kiss and began running her hands up and down his chest, exploring the torso that lay underneath his shirt. Slowly, deliberately, she teased it up and over his head. Lois hadn't had much chance to truly _admire_ his physique before and her hands informed her that he was indeed as chiseled as his tight-fitting blue suit led everyone to believe. She also knew that while he didn't mind being shirtless he was too much of a gentleman to attempt to disrobe her, so she disengaged his hands from her back.

He wrapped his free arms along the back of the sofa as she teasingly undid the buttons on her blouse one-by-one. Clark kept his blue eyes locked on her hazel ones, watching the flush of her cheeks and admiring the way her hair fell half in front of her face, until she let the thin piece of clothing fall gently off her shoulders. All she was wearing underneath was a piece of lacy black lingerie that could hardly be termed a bra. He was about to take her in his arms anew and caress her neck with kisses when they both heard the sound of wood snap. Clark turned around to discover that in his excitement he'd inadvertently broken part of the couch's wooden frame in two with his bare hands.

The shocked expression on his face said it all. "We…we can't do this. We just, we can't do this."

Lois renewed her affection despite his protestations, trying to change his mind. "Clark, it's alright…" she said as she kissed him again, reaching a hand out for one of his only to have him draw back from her further. He absolutely refused to touch her and held his arms up in surrender, willing her off him.

"P-please…just stop."

"Ok," she said in annoyance, climbing off his lap and picking her blouse up off the floor before pulling it back on over her shoulders. She started to walk away and up the stairs in a huff.

"Lois, don't leave angry…" he started to say, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"Well how would you like me to leave? As you can see I'm not exactly thrilled here!"

"I know, and I'm…God I hate saying this to you all the time!" he cried out, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "Lois, I'm sorry, but I don't want to hurt you!"

"If you hate apologizing all the time then stop it! And if you want to be with me then be with me! It's not that hard, Clark, it's **you** that makes things so difficult!"

"Me?! _ME_?! How do _I_ make things difficult?! It's not like I asked to be this…this…this SUPER-CHARGED THING!"

Her anger flared violently as she crossed back over the room. "You are not a _THING_, Clark, you're a MAN! UGH!!!" He didn't even flinch as she shouted in his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, listening to her rapidly beating heart. He got up from the sofa. "I'll go make you some tea, help you calm down."

"Dammit stop doing that!" she paused, still fuming. "You know what? I give up!" she started stalking off toward the stairs again.

Clark froze in place as he stood near the sofa. _Give up? Give up?!?! What's that supposed to mean?_ "Lois…?!" he asked in a terrified high-pitched voice.

She sighed exasperatedly, mid-way up the stairs. "No, Clark, I'm not giving up on _us_. Despite how FRUSTRATING you are sometimes, and despite how ANNOYINGLY attentive you can be while disregarding your own needs, I still love you. In fact, that's a large part of why I love you. But I'm tired of forcing the issue of intimacy with you. I want to be with you; you _know_ how I want to be with you, or maybe I was just imagining things back at the airport two weeks ago?

"But something is always stopping you, so I've decided here and now to stop pushing the subject. If you want to remain colleagues and joint parents with nothing else between us, then fine. If you want to become something more, then you know where to find me. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to head upstairs to bed. Good night." Lois turned and continued on up the stairs to the guest bedroom, leaving Clark alone with her ultimatum on the sofa.


	56. Chapter 56

_**Smallville, KS**_**, April 14, 2008.** The next two days went as well as could be expected, and Jason was the only one unaware of the change in mood between his parents. Clark was respectful towards Lois but still adamantly refused to touch her; worse still he tried to keep his distance from his son, who didn't quite comprehend why his Daddy wouldn't pick him up or hug him close anymore. Martha left the issue well enough alone until she and Lois were by themselves in the kitchen after breakfast that Tuesday, the boys having gone to play and talk outside.

"So…" Martha said, settling down in her chair with a second cup of coffee. Lois lowered the paper she was reading and looked at her.

"So…"

"You and Clark seem to be…ok…"

Lois grimaced. "Yep, that's us, just ok!" she said, dripping with false cheer.

"You know, I always thought yours was an interesting relationship," Martha started saying, ignoring Lois' sarcasm. "Jonathan and I, we rarely had a difference of opinion on anything. The only thing we ever really disagreed on was what lengths to go to to conceal Clark and his abilities, and if it had been left up to me…well, let's just say he probably never would have left the farm. But Jonathan knew that someday our boy would have to leave and spread his wings, literally and metaphorically speaking of course," she said with a wink.

Lois put the paper down on the table and stared back at her puzzled. "Martha, are you saying Clark and I aren't right for one another because we fight?"

"Heaven's no! Complacency worked for me and Jonathan, but you two are perfect for each other _because_ you fight. You disagree, you argue, you talk things out…and eventually you make up; that's a very important part of a healthy relationship. Besides, you keep Clark on his toes, which is just what he needs, while he keeps you grounded, which is what you need. You compliment one another; anyone can see that. What I'm trying to say is that I think I'm to blame for Clark's…distance." She pursed her mouth in anger at herself before continuing on. "When it comes to relationships, Clark hangs back. He observes the situation, gauges how he should act and react so as to try and best fit in and that's my fault because I taught him that he had to do that. The good news is that when he does act he's all Jonathan, heart and soul. All I'm saying is just be patient with him, that's all."

The younger woman let loose a sigh. "I know, and I'm trying, I really am. It's just so difficult knowing that months and years have gone by that didn't have to, and when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with someone you don't want to waste anymore time than you already have!"

Martha looked over at her with wide eyes. "You mean…has he…?" she glanced down at Lois' ring finger.

She blushed. "No. We haven't even talked about that, but I'm hoping he feels the same way. I know that I want to stick by him, no matter what; even if Jason weren't in the picture my feelings for him would be unchanged. I'm just having a hard time convincing him of that."

"Oh Lois…" she reached a hand out and the younger woman held onto it from across the table, both wishing the man they were discussing weren't so slow and stubborn to see what he had right in front of him.

* * *

While Lois and Martha were having their heart-to-heart in the kitchen Jason was chasing Shelby around in the yard while simultaneously peppering Clark with questions. 

"Dad? Grandma says she and Grandpa found you in a cornfield. Is this it, is this the one?" he asked, pointing to the field in front of the house.

"No, your grandparents found me in another cornfield on the other side of Town. It was on somebody else's property. Maybe later on today we can drive over there and I can show you."

"COOL!" He seemed to puzzle over something for a moment before finally asking, "But how _exactly_ did you get here?"

"My biological parents, Jor-el and Lara, sent me in a spaceship they designed," Clark replied matter-of-factly, nonplussed at his son's curiosity over his Kryptonian heritage. _Looks like we'll have to take a trip up to the Fortress in the near future...If only Luthor hadn't taken all the crystals..._

Jason's eyes went wide. "Can I see it?"

Clark considered the request for a moment before looking down at his son's face. It was Lois' inquisitive look only in miniature. "See the ship? Why not? Come on over with me to the barn here," he led him just inside the doorway. "Now, I want you to take a deep breath in, as deep as you can, and blow out with me on that spot there." He pointed to the center of the barn floor which was covered in hay. "Ok? 1…2…3!" Father and son inhaled together and quickly blew aside the straw covering the barn cellar door.

"This is so neat!!!!" Jason cried out, running over to open the door by himself in an attempt to get to the ship faster.

"Hold on there, let me get that, it's heavy…even for a strong little guy like you," he gave him a playful ruffle of the hair as he bent down to pull up the doors. They were barely open before Jason bolted into the cellar in search of the spaceship, enough ambient light filtering through to make his search easier while keeping the corners dark.

He scanned the room. "Grandma sure has a lot of old newspapers…oh, is this it?! Is this it?!" he asked exuberantly as he pulled off the coarse woolen blanket. Underneath he found a small crystalline ship, about as long as he was tall, that looked as pristine as if it had been made thirty minutes ago and not thirty-three years ago. Jason marveled at it's structure, running his hand over every inch of the ship before scrutinizing the Kryptonian symbols etched into the hull. "Dad, what does this one mean? And what about this one here? Dad? Dad…?"

The boy had been so engrossed in his discovery that he'd forgotten entirely about his father. Clark had descended into the cellar immediately behind Jason, but when he got to the base of the stairs he felt his heart rate spike dangerously. The room was dark, and everything smelled damp and musty, reminding him of the countless hours he'd spent locked away. The memories of the trauma took over, and while Jason was busy exploring the mysteries of the ship Clark retreated to a corner behind the stairs, readying himself for a fight.

"Daddy?" the boy's scared voice cried out in the darkness. He circled around and unknowingly drew closer to where Clark stood when he came out of the shadows, fists extended like a boxer.

"**STAY AWAY FROM ME!**" he snarled through clenched teeth, the hair falling in his face and framing the menacing glare of his eyes. Jason cowered back in fear as his father came toward him a completely different man. "**I'M STILL SUPERMAN!**" Clark took another step forward, the muscles in his arms flexing dangerously.

"Daddy???" Jason's heart beat like a wild rabbit's in his chest as his eyes darted around the room looking for a means of escape. Without a second thought he super-sped up the stairs and out of sight.

* * *

Jason blew in through the back door so fast he caused his mother and grandmother to yelp in surprise. "Come quick, something's wrong with Dad!" he yelled before speeding back out the door, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. Martha and Lois fled the kitchen and ran through the hallway, reaching the front porch in time to see Jason waiting worriedly by the barn entrance.

* * *

Clark's chest was heaving as he grew more and more indignant at his phantom mistreatment. "YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE! **ARGH!!!**" he yelled out, still half-hidden in the shadows. Without warning he slammed a fist into one of the support beams and debris shuffled overhead while tufts of hay rained down on his shoulders. 

Lois heard his angry screams and shouts as she crossed the front yard toward Jason. "Where is he?" she asked, kneeling down to his eye-level.

"He's in there…" the boy replied somberly, pointing inside the barn to the cellar door she'd never seen before. "He was showing me his spaceship."

She looked up anxiously at Martha. "What else is down there?"

"Nothing, just the ship and a lot of old newspapers, that's all!" the older woman said as she stood behind Jason, placing her arms on his shoulders. They turned as if one, listening to him shout at unseen captors just below the surface.

"I'm going to go get him…" she stood up and prepared to go after him.

"Don't! It's too dangerous!"

She turned to face her again. "He won't hurt me." Lois tried to make herself understood with her eyes. "I know him, he won't." Martha nodded. "Now stay here, and no matter what, DO NOT ENTER THAT BARN, either of you, do you understand?!" The boy shook his head no.

"Jason," Lois said, her voice rising, "You are NOT to go in that barn, do you hear me?!" He still refused to agree. "Martha, hold him back, I don't want him coming down there." And with that she strode off into the barn, leaving Jason squirming in his grandmother's tight grip.

It grew eerily quiet as she descended the steps; even the animals were on edge, waiting for whatever was going to happen next as they stood silently in their stalls, their eyes trained on her. She reached the landing and called out his name. "Clark?" The question hung in the air, unanswered, and she turned to her left to explore her surroundings.

Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness when she half-tripped on the woolen blanket left lying on the ground. Turning to the right she saw the exposed ship that had carried Clark halfway across the galaxy as an infant, sitting apparently unscathed on a few bales of hay. Unconsciously she stretched a hand out to touch it when the sound of his heavy breathing reached her ears.

"You can't keep me here," his deep voice bellowed deliberately, making him sound all the more imposing. He was an arm's length away from her.

"Nobody's keeping you anywhere, Clark," she told him gently but firmly, inching forward. He scuffled back and away from her. "Do you know where you are?"

"How can I know where I am when you keep me locked up down here?! **UGGHH!!**" he swung at the support beam he'd hit earlier and punched it again. It groaned from the strain of the blows while holding up the floor above. Lois stopped and looked up to make sure the ceiling would stay before creeping forward again.

"You're in your barn in Smallville, Clark…you're safe…you've been safe for the last two months. Now come with me and we'll go up the stairs and get some fresh air…"

He let out an evil laugh as he turned around to face her again. "You'd like that wouldn't you? You won't trick me anymore, Finneran!" He raised his fists and made to strike the post again.

"I'm not going to leave you, but I wouldn't do that or you'll bring the whole roof down on us," she said, barely hiding the concern in her voice.

Up above ground she heard Jason giving Martha a hell of a time as he was screaming for both of his parents while his grandmother restrained him.

Clark's eyes narrowed into slits as he spoke, unaware of his son's shouts. "So long as I take you with me, Luthor, it doesn't matter…" and he purposefully swung at the post, snapping it in two.

It all happened in the space of three seconds. Lois heard the crunch of wood as his fist made contact and she saw the floor above their heads give way, bringing it and the crates and bales of hay resting on it down around them. She ran toward Clark without a moment's hesitation and wrapped her arms around his waist, willing him to protect her from the falling debris, and it was her touch that brought him back to reality.

_Oh God what have I done?_ he thought, shaking his head before forcing her into a crouching position at his feet. Clark folded himself over and wrapped his arms protectively around her as the wood came toppling down. _Please let her be alright, please let her be alright…_

Jason stopped squirming just as he and Martha witnessed the partial collapse of the barn floor. She absent-mindedly let the boy go as her hands rushed to her face to stifle a cry, wondering what Clark had done and whether the two of them were alright. He took off toward the barn, standing just outside the door, scanning the dust that escaped through the cellar opening for any sign of either of his parents.


	57. Chapter 57

_**Smallville, KS**_**, April 14, 2008.** The floor above their heads now lay in waste on top of and around them as light from the outside world filtered into the partially collapsed barn cellar. Clark hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath as the debris settled, waiting and fearing to find out if he'd hurt—or worse, killed—Lois. When the world stopped falling in around them and everything grew quiet once more he shrugged the planks of wood off his broad shoulders and scooped her up in his arms 

She coughed and wiped the dust off her face, using her free hand to shield her eyes from the light. "I told you…" cough "…I wasn't…" cough, cough "…going to leave you." Letting out a sigh of relief Clark x-rayed her quickly looking for any internal injuries; when he found none, he held her closer to him and sped up the steps and out the barn door, coming to a stop just beside Jason while lowering Lois gently to the ground.

The young Kryptonian shirked away from his father and went around to his mother's other side, grabbing her in a tight hug as she sat on the ground. "MOMMY!"

She could hear him stifling a few worried sobs while his face was buried in her shirt. "Shhh shhh, I'm alright, Jason, I'm alright. It was just an accident, we're fine, see?" she asked, forcing him to look up at her as she looked from him to Clark. The boy stood up and glared at him.

"Why did you DO THAT?!" the little boy screamed at Clark. The man hung his head low; he had no answers for the irate six year old before him. Martha screamed.

"Son, your pants!"

Jason was so furious with his father that he accidentally triggered his heat vision and set Clark's trousers on fire. It was just the hint of a spark, and the man casually stretched out a hand and put the small blaze out as Jason bolted off towards a grove of trees two miles away. Clark looked at Lois, frantically seeking guidance on what to do next.

"Well go after him!" she urged. He sped off after his son without another moment's hesitation, kicking up a trail of dust behind him.

"Are you alright, Dear?" Martha asked, helping the young woman back up onto her feet.

She brushed the debris off her clothes and swept back her hair. "I'm fine. Being down in the cellar just triggered a lot of bad memories for him…he kept referring to me as Finneran or Luthor before he brought the house down. When I touched him though he snapped out of it and shielded me from the collapse."

"It's a good thing he didn't knock any of the other support beams down there or he may very well have brought the whole thing down on you two!"

"Yes, we're all very lucky," Lois said quietly. "I just wish I knew how to explain to Jason why this happened...I've never seen him so upset before…and the heat vision too! Oh Martha…" she turned to the older woman looking for guidance.

Martha sighed. "I think when they get back here you three need to have a chat about Clark's abduction. Don't go into details but tell him why his father behaved that way and explain that it _may_ happen again in the future and what to do about it. He's a smart boy, Lois, and he did a very good thing today coming to us for help; but he deserves to know why his father needed that help. And as far as the heat vision? I'm sure Clark thought of this too, but I'm willing to bet it was just because Jason was emotional, and that it wasn't an actual manifestation of one of his powers. It happened to Clark once or twice when he was a little older than Jason too…"

Just then Clark came racing back up with Jason. "LEGGO OF ME! LET GO LET GO LET GO!!!" the boy shouted, flailing as his father held him against his side.

"Did you hear that?" Lois asked, turning to Clark.

"Yes I heard. Let's go to the backyard and talk, shall we? Mom, if you'll excuse us…" he said giving her a nod before walking back with Lois and their screaming son in tow.

* * *

Lois sat down on the picnic table bench facing out toward the yard and Clark placed Jason in her lap as he took a seat a foot away from them. Both parents looked uncomfortably at one another before turning to the child who sat quietly fuming in their midst. 

"Honey, what do you know about the time that your father was taken away from us?" Lois asked innocently.

He stewed in his own anger briefly before replying. "The bad men had him and they had lots of the green rock stuff, like the stuff the bald guy on the ship had that time, and the bald guy was there too and they wouldn't let Daddy go."

"Jason," Clark interjected. "The green rock is called Kryptonite. It's pieces of the planet where I was born, only it was mutated—changed—when Krypton blew up. It hurts me, just like fire or weapons can hurt you or your mother." Lois nodded to reinforce the point. She continued.

"When the bad men had your father, they had lots of the Kryptonite and they…" she turned to face Clark, not wanting to wound him by re-living the traumas in front of their son. "They hurt him with it, Jason. They used it to hurt him. They kept him locked away in a room that looked a lot like the cellar in the barn, and when he was down there today he thought that was where he was again." She paused a moment, wracking her brain as to how best to phrase it so that their son would understand. "Jason, do you remember what it's like when you have those bad dreams, and I come into your room to wake you up? What do you do sometimes?"

The boy looked shamefully down at the ground. "Sometimes I try to hit you, but I don't mean it! I get confused and think you're the boogey-man from my dream!!"

Lois rushed to reassure him and held him in a tight hug. "I know, Baby, I know, and it's ok! What I'm trying to tell you is that that's kind of what happened to your dad today. He had a nightmare, only he was awake. That's part of the reason why he's been staying here at Grandma's and why he couldn't fly to Metropolis to get us, he's been trying to get better so he can get his powers back and not have nightmares like that anymore."

Clark stood up and moved in front of them, kneeling down in front of Lois and Jason. "Son, I would NEVER EVER hurt you or your mother; I love you both so much, and I would do anything to protect the two of you. But down there today…" he swallowed hard "…down there I didn't know what I was doing, and I'm sorry I scared you. I scared me too. Can you ever forgive me?" He held his breath again, wondering if he'd irreparably damaged their son, when Jason leapt out of his mother's lap and into Clark's arms. Clark was so stunned he couldn't move, he just kept looking from Lois to Jason and back to Lois, before slowly and cautiously encircling the boy in his arms.

They stayed like that for a long time before Clark pulled Jason away from his chest and looked him square in the eye. "So we're ok now, Buddy?"

"Yes," Jason said, nodding his head vigorously.

"Good, because I think you might want to head on up to the house then."

He cocked his head. "Why?"

"It sounds to me like your Grandmother is getting ready to make one of her famous apple pies and I _think_ she might need a helper," he said, winking at Lois. Jason sped off and in the back door, ready to forget the crazy events of the morning. Clark's face turned serious once more as the back door slammed shut behind their son. "Care to accompany me on a stroll?" he asked Lois as he stood up.

"Yes."

He held his arm out awkwardly at his side and she linked her arm in his. He didn't pull her in closer, leaving a large gap between them.

They were some ways away from the house when he spoke up. "You handled that really well, Lois, all of it. Me, the barn, Jason. You're an amazing woman but you're also a terrific mother; I never remember to tell you that enough."

She blushed at the compliment. "I'm just glad no one got hurt. And you know, Clark, you're not a bad father yourself."

"Now I _know_ you're lying. I haven't been in his life for more than a year and a half, and most of that I wasn't even around for. I think I tend to screw things up rather than make them better."

Lois turned and looked at him crossly. "How come you're so free with the compliments but you can never take them? You were the only person at the _Planet_ who would give Jason the time of day other than Jimmy and Perry, and that was _before_ you even knew he was yours! Then there were all the times you watched him while Richard and I sorted through our stuff…" her thought trailed off as another memory surfaced. "Actually, do you remember that time in the bullpen when Richard was trying to evict us? Jason said you went for a walk around the block but I always suspected something else…"

Clark gulped guiltily. "We uh… we went flying. More like hovering actually."

"Hovering? Where?"

"We uh, we went just above the clouds. I laid on my back and he rested on my stomach while we talked about what was going on with you and Richard. I just didn't think he needed to hear the two of you fighting, that's all."

"And who told you to do that?" she asked in a semi-accusatory tone.

_Now I'm really in the doghouse…_"Nobody?"

"That's right, you took the initiative and you did the right thing. You did what any _good_ father _would_ do." He grinned.

The pair of them turned around and headed back to the house. "Lois, I…" _I love you. I want to be with you. I want to be Jason's father full-time, no more secrets. I know you're the only woman for me. Marry me. I love you. _

"Yes?" she asked, probing his features for clues with the piercing look of her hazel eyes.

He cleared his throat. "Lois, after I fix the barn I think I'm going to move some of my stuff into my old lounge space in the loft. It's safer for everyone if I'm up there; if I have any of my nightmares or anything I won't scare Jason, but I'll be close enough by if you still need me at night for any reason while you're here. I think it's for the best."

She let loose a sigh. "Alright."

Clark did a double-take. "Alright? You mean, you're not going to tell me you think that it's a stupid idea, that I'm overreacting, that I shouldn't think of leaving my own house just because of the possibility that I might have some bad dreams…"

"No, I'm not. I know better then that, especially given what just happened, not to mention that I kind of agree with you on this one. While you haven't had any nightmares since we've been here, today's episode might trigger a relapse and I think it's best that we don't expose Jason to them if we can help it," she interjected.

Lois continued walking down the road as Clark stopped dead in his tracks. He was rendered speechless by the fact that he'd actually won in an argument against Lois Lane.


	58. Chapter 58

_**Smallville, KS**_**, April 16, 2008.** He smelled her perfume wafting in his direction and heard her footsteps long before he saw her. She climbed up the ladder to the loft space where Clark had taken temporary refuge, moving as stealthily as she could while knowing that it wasn't going to be enough.

"Hey," he called out to her, not even bothering to put down the book he'd been reading as he lay sprawled on the old couch.

"Hey yourself," she said, hoisting herself over onto the main floor. Lois scanned the room and saw that he had made quite a nice little nook for himself up there; a bookcase full of well-loved volumes on one side, then there was the old couch (which she assumed was a pull out bed) and a desk with an unlit kerosene lamp on it. He sat up as she strolled over to him.

"So this is where you've been hiding out? Interesting…"

Clark moved to one end of the couch, leaving the other two-thirds open for her. She took the seat closest to him. "It kind of became my, um, _Fortress of Solitude_ once I outgrew the tree house," he said, jerking a thumb in it's direction.

"But before the crystals surfaced, I get it."

His eyes widened at her nonchalance over the strangeness of his life as she continued to look around the loft. "Was there, um…was there, a _reason_ you came up here, Lois?"

"Yes," she replied.

He waited for her to elaborate. She didn't.

"Lois?"

"Jason thinks you're hiding from him, he thinks he did something wrong."

"What?! Why would he think that?"

"How could he NOT think that? If I were a six and a half year old hanging around you I'd be thinking that too."

"But we explained it to him the other day! He knows he's not at fault! And I'm staying up here because I don't want to hurt either of you…"

"Yet you are hurting us, whether you stay away or not!" She stood up and threw her hands in the air, clearly frustrated at the circle the two of them kept running around in. "Look, I didn't come up here to argue, it's just that…Clark, we came all the way out here to see you. Your SON is _here_ to see YOU, and right now he's getting more face time with Shelby."

"But what if I scare him again? Lois, he looked so angry and hurt, I don't ever want to do that to him again."

She wheeled around to the middle of the room with her hands on her hips, but her features softened as she spoke. "Parenthood doesn't work that way, Clark. Do you know how many times _I've_ gotten that look over the years? When I've missed picking him up from after-school care, or I couldn't take him to the park because of a deadline? It's bound to happen again, you just need to learn to deal with it."

He looked up at her with a disgraced look on his face. "Still think I'm a good father now?" he asked semi-sarcastically.

"Yes, and I also think you're one who's still learning. Now get your butt off that couch and go inside and read him a story instead of pouting out here by yourself."

"Yes Boss," he replied, jumping up and giving her a quick peck on the cheek before rushing down the ladder and out the barn.

"Geesh! I have to do everything around here!" Lois said under her breath in the middle of the empty loft as she strode over to the ladder. "It's a miracle we even had Jason!"

Unbeknownst to her, Clark stood in the middle of living room waiting for Jason to reappear with a story book, listening to her every word.

* * *

_**Smallville, KS**_**, April 18, 2008. **Martha had gone out for the day with Ben, leaving the Kent/Lane family at home to amuse themselves. The drizzle outside prevented any outdoor activities and so Lois found herself in the living room playing Chutes & Ladders with Clark and Jason. She had just finished rolling down her third chute when she heard her cell phone go off inside her purse in the hall.

"Lois, remember now: if it's Perry or anyone else at the _Planet_, you promised not to answer it. You're on vacation," Clark called out to her as she got up off the floor to answer it.

"I know, I know, I won't." She popped the screen open. "Hello?"

"Lois? Hi, it's Chloe."

"Hey! Where've you been? We haven't seen much of you around this week!"

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. Three of our reporters got the flu, and when you only have a staff of ten…"

Lois held up a hand. "Say no more, I understand. Do you need some help? Because I wouldn't mind popping over there for a few hours…"

"LOIS!" Clark yelled at her from the other room. Chloe heard his indignant cry and chuckled on the other end of the line.

"I really appreciate the offer but things are back under control here. That's why I was calling actually, I have some free time this afternoon, and I was wondering if you'd like to go get some coffee and maybe do a little shopping—you know, catch up."

"Hang on, let me check," she held a hand over the mouthpiece and walked out of the hallway back into the living room. "Clark, you and your mother don't have anything planned for us this afternoon, do you?"

He looked away from the intense game as his son maneuvered his piece over to yet _another_ ladder and answered, "No, I don't think so. Why?"

"Chloe just wants to catch up. You know, get some coffee, talk, maybe go shopping."

"Girly things, yuck," Jason piped up, sticking his tongue out as he awaited his father's turn.

"Sounds good to me. Do you need a lift into town?"

"Hold on, let me find out." Lois turned her attention back to the phone. "I'm free. What time do you want to meet up?"

"I can pick you up at the Kent's in twenty minutes if that's alright."

"Sure, sounds like a plan. I'll see you in a little bit."

"See you soon."

Lois sat back down to the game and rolled the dice before turning her attention to Clark. "Did you hear that?"

He feigned a look of shock. "Lois Lane! Contrary to popular belief I do NOT eavesdrop on all your conversations…"

She smirked. "So does that mean you only eavesdrop on _some_ of my conversations?"

Clark choked on his tongue and squirmed in his seat trying to come up with an explanation while Jason giggled at his father's turn in the proverbial hot seat. "I…uh…no. Wait! Sometimes! But only if I think you're in danger…or something…"

Lois laughed and moved her piece three spaces forward, to the base of the highest ladder on the board, leaving both her boys in her dust.

* * *

Father and son stood silently in the hallway, waiting until they were sure that Chloe's truck was safely down the drive and on the main road before either one spoke.

"Good job, Buddy," he said to the boy, reaching out a hand for a low-five which Jason slickly returned. "Now, do you remember the rest of the plan?"

"Uh-huh," he said, nodding and sending his hair into his eyes. He brushed it aside. "I'm going to go put my jammies, toothbrush, and play clothes in my backpack, and then you're going to take me to Katie's house!" Jason jumped up and down in the air in anticipation of seeing his Smallville playmate again.

"That's right. Now I know I don't have to say this, but I'm going to anyway. I want you to be on your best behavior while you're at Mr. and Mrs. Crowe's house tonight, ok?"

Jason sighed exasperatedly. "_Yes, Dad_."

"Alright then. Well what are you waiting for?" Clark sped up the stairs, leaving Jason giggling for a second on the landing before speeding up behind him.

* * *

Chloe took Lois to Lana's coffee house where the three of them sat in a corner booth and drank their café lattes. The conversation had been flowing freely for half an hour when Chloe abruptly changed the subject.

"So, what's going on between you and Clark?" Across the table Lana raised her eyebrows interestedly.

Lois swallowed hard. "What do you mean, going on?"

"Well this is what, your third trip to Smallville in a year? You've never shown any interest in Kansas before, and I'm guessing it has to do with someone tall, dark and slightly goofy. Am I right?" Chloe couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off her face as she spoke.

"We're…you know…it's difficult to define right now. And with Jason…"

"Who's Jason?" Lana cut in.

"Jason's my son."

"Their son," Chloe quickly corrected.

"Their who?"

"Lois and Clark's."

Lana's hands flew up to her face. "No! Really? Oh my gosh…You and Clark?….No!!"

Lois blushed and nodded her head. "Yes, it's true. Jason is our son and he's six and a half. Clark went off on his—'soul-searching' trip before I found out I was pregnant, and he didn't know until he returned home." She knew she had to be careful about what she said around Lana; Chloe had informed her some time ago that the young woman, despite being a lifelong friend of Clark's, had never been let in on the secret.

"Oh my…and Martha?"

"She's known for about a year and a half and is spoiling him rotten." All three smiled.

Ever the reporter, Chloe steered the conversation back around to the original topic. "So that still doesn't answer my question. What's going on between you and Clark?"

Lois splayed her hands out in front of her and let out a sigh. "I wish I could tell you. The truth is I don't know what he wants. I try to get closer to him, but then I back off remembering everything he's been through lately, then we do get close and _he_ backs off…"

"Boy do I remember that game," Lana said semi-wistfully.

"What?"

She looked up and straight at Lois. "You mean you don't know? Clark and I, we flirted with each other all through high school. He never took it further than that though; I mean, there were times when it seemed like he wanted to, and I know there were times when I thought I wanted to, but somehow we ended up always missing each other. I guess it was just never meant to be." Now it was Lana's turn to sigh. "But shortly afterward he left for Metropolis and I met Christopher and I couldn't be happier."

Lois and Lana focused on their drinks momentarily, their thoughts dwelling on Clark, before they each turned to their companion. "What about you, Chloe?" Lois asked mischievously. "Is there anyone in _your_ life that you're not telling us about?"

She nearly leapt out of her skin at being called out about her love life by her friends, and began back-pedaling in the conversation as quickly as she could with Lois and Lana teasing her mercilessly the whole time.

* * *

Lois spun around once more in the dress as she stood in front of the three piece mirror inside Geraldine's Boutique. It was the third of five dresses Chloe had convinced her to try on and she had to admit it fit like a glove.

"You don't think it's too…?" she started to ask, nibbling on a finger and surveying her reflection with a critical eye.

"Too what, Lois? That dress was obviously made for you! Go for it!"

"But where would I wear it to?" Lois said, turning around to face her friend.

Chloe seemed lost in thought for a moment before hitting upon an idea. "I tell you what: you buy that dress and I'll buy the blue one I had on a minute ago and we'll go out to get dinner and drinks. I know a great little place a couple of towns over that's perfect for two ladies such as ourselves," she said decidedly, giving Lois an impish wink.

"Oh shoot, dinner! I better call Clark…" Lois jumped down off the platform by the mirror and ran to grab her cell phone out of her purse.

The first ring had barely gone through when he picked up the phone. "Hello, Kent household."

"Clark? It's Lois. Listen, Chloe suggested heading out to dinner and drinks, and I know it's my last night in town, but do you mind terribly if I skip out on dinner at the farm tonight?"

"Well gee, Lois, I uh…I had something kind of special…" he started to say, sounding disappointed and causing her to frown before he started laughing. "I'm kidding, I can't tease you like that, it's just too mean. Sure, go ahead, have a good time. Tell Chloe I said 'Hi' and I'll see you two when you get back later on tonight."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Clark. You sure you and the Munchkin will be ok?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Mom's not back from her day out with Ben yet but I think the two of us will survive."

"Well ok then, if you're sure. I'll try not to stay out too late."

Clark coughed on the other end of the line. "Don't worry about it, we'll see you when you get in. Bye now!"

"Bye." She looked a little crestfallen at how easily he was getting along without her when she caught Chloe's eye at the register. The woman was trying to have the cashier ring up the pale blue dress _while_ she was wearing it. Lois laughed at her friend before striding over to do the same thing.

* * *

Chloe pulled the truck up to the front of a small Italian restaurant a forty-five minute drive away from Smallville. The lights were dim and there didn't appear to be any patrons sitting down inside.

"Lois, I can't make out what the sign on the door says. Would you mind hopping out and seeing if it's closed or not? I knew I should have called first…" she said as Lois happily jumped out of the truck's cab. She'd barely gotten two feet away when Chloe hit the gas and sped off down the street.

"HEY, CHLOE!!" Lois screamed after her, waving her arm up in the air. Looking around she realized she was in quite a quandary; she couldn't even remember the name of the town she was in, let alone afford a cab to get her back to Smallville again once she DID find out where she was. _This is NOT FUNNY, CHLOE! Oh I am going to wring your neck, _she thought bitterly to herself. Lois walked up to the front door of the restaurant to see if maybe she could use their telephone when she saw the handwritten sign.

"Closed for Private Party"

"Dammit!" She turned her back on the door and was looking around to see what else was open and if anyone could help her when a familiar voice called out from behind her.

"Lois."

She whirled around at the sound of her name and came face-to-face with Clark.

"What are you doing here?" Had she taken the time to study him the way he was now studying her she wouldn't have had to ask. Clark openly stared at her as she stood under the street lamp. She was wearing a deep red spaghetti-strap dress with a hem that fell just above her knees. Her soft brown hair was swept up off her face and she had a black clutch in one hand, shielding her eyes from the glare of the lamp so she could search his face for an explanation.

When Lois truly opened her eyes she saw him standing there with one foot in the restaurant's door, wearing a black suit with a matching black tie. His hair was partially slicked back while the glasses rested carefully on the bridge of his nose; a perfect blend of the Clark Kent/Superman look she'd seen in each of his personas over the years. He broke the stillness by extending his hand toward her, "We're the private party, Lois. You should come in now, you must be cold." Not even attempting to respond, she took the hand he offered and walked with him back into the restaurant.

It was a small open floor plan with tables scattered throughout and a bar built into the middle of the room. The whole spaced was bathed in candle-light, and once her eyes adjusted Lois noticed a small clearing near the back. Two impeccably dressed waiters stood off to one side as Clark showed her to her seat.

"Y-You, you planned all of this?" she asked as he popped open a bottle of champagne. "You even had Chloe in on it too?"

"Of course," he replied, flashing her a knowing grin. "As well as Jason and my mother. You know, you don't _have_ to do _everything_…" It took her a moment to place the comment in it's proper context before her cheeks turned crimson.

"Oh my God, you heard that?!" she whispered loudly, her napkin fluttering up to half-cover her face. "But I didn't say that just to get you to do this!"

"Yes I did hear it and I'm glad you said it. Ever since I came back from _my trip_," he said conspiratorially, "We've been working together as 'just friends', and then we went straight into being an instant family, and this was before everything else happened. I wanted to take a little time for us to be a couple—make some grand romantic gesture that would sweep you off your feet on our second-first official date. After all, you did leave the ball in my court."

She smiled as she held the champagne flute to her lips, adding coyly, "This isn't official." He balked as she seductively took a sip.

"W-What do you mean?"

Lois placed the glass back on the table. "You never asked me out; you hoodwinked me into getting here, which makes this an unofficial date." She reached out across the table and took his hand in hers. "But other than that you've gotten everything right." His trademark grin affixed itself to his face once more at her familiar snark.

One of the waiters brought over the shrimp cocktail that Clark had pre-ordered and they munched on it thoughtfully in-between their animated conversation. When they were through Clark stood up and moved over next to her. "Would you care to dance?"

Now it was her turn to balk. "You dance?"

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Lois, you've seen me fly. Where do you think a guy like me gets grace like that?" Then louder, in case the wait staff in the restaurant was listening, he added, "Of course I can dance! Every farm boy's mother teaches her son how to dance at some point in his life. It's a right of passage; you can't leave Kansas without it." He winked at her as she took his hand and they made their way out onto the dance floor.

Clark pressed her too him and started to sway gently to the soft ballroom music that was pulsing out of the restaurant's hidden speakers, burying his nose in her floral scented hair. She nuzzled her cheek against his chest and remained there, unconcerned about the steps, allowing him to guide her in slow revolutions around the floor.

"This is nice," she said softly after some minutes listening to his heart beating in his chest.

"Yes it is."

"I've missed this."

"So have I."

"It's been six years."

Clark let the statement hang in the air a moment, the simple declaration wounding them both. "I know," he replied, a twinge of sadness creeping into his voice.

Her voice dropped even lower so that only he could hear her. "Don't ever leave me again."

"I won't," he said resolutely. She looked up into his big blue eyes and knew that he meant it. She craned her head upward and kissed him full on the lips, disregarding the prying eyes of the waiters in the corner, and he returned it ardently. The world blurred around them as Clark brought a hand up and cupped her face, rubbing a thumb idly along her cheek. "I won't," he repeated as their lips parted. He caught the sound of a bell in the kitchen, signaling that their dinner was ready, and he brought Lois back to the table.

Mid-way through their meal she looked up and over at him playfully before asking, "So, what else have you got planned for the evening, Mr. Kent?"

He munched on his bread thoughtfully, before saying, "Oh you know…I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Really?" she grinned at him, "I hadn't noticed."


	59. Chapter 59

_**Smallville, **_**KS, April 18/19, 2008, 9:45 PM. **When they were finished with dinner Clark brought Lois around to the restaurant's back parking lot and she scanned the seemingly empty space for the old truck. "Clark, how are we going to get home? Chloe left hours ago, there's no way she's coming back…"

He interjected. "I have another means of getting us home." He took off the glasses and placed them carefully in his front pocket.

She looked at him, clearly puzzled. "What are you doing? And did you…did you get taller?" Clark stayed put, waiting for Lois' eyes to travel down to his feet. "OH MY GOD, CLARK, YOU'RE FLYING! REALLY FLYING!!"

"I don't think they heard you the next county over," he said teasingly as he came back down to Earth.

"But how? When? What? Oh I think I had too much champagne…" She clasped a hand to her head and feigned a faint when Clark scooped her up in his arms. He scanned the area quickly before flying straight up into the air where they could discuss his newly-returned power more openly.

They were above the clouds before he spoke again. "I hope you haven't had too much champagne or it will ruin what I've got planned at home."

Lois held onto him tightly, having not been airborne like this for quite some time. "Why didn't you tell me you could fly again?!"

"Because I wanted to surprise you." He turned so that they were now horizontal with the clouds and they carefully picked their way home. "It came back last Saturday, when I was playing catch with Jason. He didn't notice it, but sometimes when he would throw the ball too far I'd sprint after it only to find that I wasn't running so much as hovering. I practiced at night when all of you were asleep; I can't go that far yet, only one or two states over before I get tired and have to come back, but it's a start."

"Yes it is a start! Oh I'm so happy for you!!" She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"I've been saving this first ride just for you," he said as he went vertical again, holding her close before coming in for a landing in front of the porch steps. They bounded up the stairs and into the house together, their faces beaming from the fresh air and the delight that could only be derived from free flight.

Lois entered first. "We're back! Martha, Jason, we're home!" She took a few steps forward and poked her head into the living room. "Martha?" She turned back around to face her companion with a worried expression. "Clark, where are they?"

"Mom's with Ben. They're spending the night in Topeka, taking in a show there."

"And Jason?" she asked hurriedly.

He winked at her. "You're not the only one who can schedule a play date you know. He's at Marilyn and David's place having a sleepover with Katie. I'll be picking him up tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning, hm?" she asked, biting her lower lip provocatively before swaying closer towards him.

"Yep."

A wicked grin flashed across her face. "Did you think that maybe you were going to get lucky tonight Mr. Kent?"

Clark blushed bashfully at her forwardness. "Wh-what?! NO! I mean, I didn't do this because of that! I thought…" His eyes roved over to the chocolate dipped strawberries sitting on the coffee table and the logs waiting to be lit in the fireplace. She saw his romantic gestures but didn't care, and she closed the distance between them with a fiery kiss while hooking one leg around his suggestively.

He eagerly responded to her touch and Lois encouraged him further by wrapping both her legs around him as he lifted her up off the ground. She stopped rifling her fingers through his thick dark hair long enough to move them in-between their chests where she began disengaging his tie from his neck. Clark took a few steps closer to the stairs as she let the black silk slip through her fingers and onto the floor.

Lois squeezed her legs a little tighter around his mid-section as he climbed the stairs and he let go of the hold he had on her back so she could more easily push the jacket off his shoulders. Once he resumed his grip on her he peppered her lips and chin with soft little kisses before trailing down to the middle of her neck. She reveled in how good it felt to be near him without reservations, and tilted her head back in ecstasy as he nuzzled against her chest. They were halfway up the stairs when she recollected herself, and her hands worked feverishly toward undoing the buttons of his shirt. Lois paused at the fourth button, and slipped her hand inside, pressing it up against his wildly beating heart. She reached behind her and took one of his hands before slipping it over her chest.

The frantic pulsing of each organ was almost in unison.

Their eyes met.

She stopped un-buttoning and pressed her mouth against his with a strength he'd never encountered from her before. Her tongue slipped its way into his mouth and Clark felt light-headed; the blood rushed out of his head and into his lower extremities so quickly he thought he would faint and he knew it wouldn't be long before he lost all control. Carefully, he nudged his foot against the guest bedroom door and strode in, depositing her in a gasping heap on the bed. Neither one wanted to slow down, and neither one ever wanted to stop.

* * *

**12:01 AM**. Lois rolled over and half onto Clark, kissing him into wakefulness.

"Happy Birthday," she said as he groggily came around.

"Hmm?" He glanced over at the clock on the bureau before turning back and kissing her full on the lips. "Why yes it is." A large smile spread across his face as he snaked a hand around to her backside and hoisted her closer to him.

"This isn't your only present you know."

"Oh no?" He raised an eyebrow at her playfully. "Because it's the only one I want…" and with that Clark rolled her over onto her back once more and renewed his attentions toward her.

* * *

**2:27 AM**. "Can we do this more often?"

"What this?" he asked casually, leaning down and kissing her impertinently on the forehead. "Or maybe you meant _this_…" he said more seductively, running his fingers lightly down her bare exposed side.

She purred. "Yes."

"I think that can be arranged…"

Lois laughed in response as her hand sprawled out over his torso.

* * *

**6:41 AM**. They finally exhausted themselves sometime between 3:30 and 4 in the morning, yet he still woke up with the sun. A smile was permanently plastered to his face, and it only grew larger as he eyed the woman sleeping next to him. Lois had fallen asleep on her stomach with the thin blanket pulled up around her waist while her hair covered the rest of her back. Clark ran his hand lightly over her soft brown tresses in complete and utter awe of the night they'd just spent together. He sat up more fully and pressed his back against the headboard grinning away like a fool.

It was then that he looked over at the nightstand to his right. A picture frame had been placed there that wasn't there the night before; not only that, but it was facing away from him. Intrigued, he tried to see through the backing but found he could not. Clark reached out and took the frame in his hands just as Lois woke up beside him.

"I still can't believe that you didn't hear me when I got out of bed to get that," she said in a voice still fuzzy with sleep. "And I'd be careful with that if I were you; they're incredibly hard to come by." He turned the object over and discovered that it was a lead and crystal frame, and the picture it contained was of Lois, Clark and Jason at the ball game the previous August. Clark got choked up just looking at it, and turned to gaze upon her with grateful eyes.

"You're welcome," she said, propping herself up beside him and kissing him on the cheek. She nuzzled her cheek against his chest, savoring the scent of his skin and the warmth his body projected. He wrapped an arm over her shoulder protectively and ran a thumb along the edge of the frame.

"You know, if you don't like it, I can always take it back," she said teasingly, reaching for the photo.

He held it just beyond her grasp. "It's the best birthday gift I've ever gotten, why on Earth would you take it back?"

"Well you did tell me earlier this morning that there was no other gift that you wanted…"

"Why you little Imp!" he shouted, lunging at Lois as she darted off the opposite side of the bed laughing hysterically. Clark caught hold of her waist and brought her back toward him, nibbling on her shoulder before working his way to the crick of her neck…


	60. Chapter 60

_**Wichita, KS**_**, April 19, 2008. **The truck ride to Wichita that evening was quiet. They'd celebrated Clark's thirty-fourth birthday with a simple luncheon party at home, and soon it was time for Lois and Jason to catch their flight back to Metropolis. The cab of the truck could only comfortably seat three, so Martha said her good-byes to her grandson and his mother on the front porch as Clark loaded up their luggage.

"Don't be a stranger now, Lois, you hear? You or Jason."

She bit her lower lip and swallowed back the tears. "We won't."

"And Jason?" Martha called, turning her attention to the small boy in front of her. He looked up at her with eyes so much like his father's. "Be good for your mother now. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Grandma," he replied, holding his arms out for a hug which she readily bent over to receive. "I love you."

Now it was her turn to hold off the tears. "I love you too." She kissed the top of his head and Lois held her hand out to him to guide him to the car.

Jason sat in-between his parents during the ride to the airport while his mother stared out the window at the passing scenery, trying to compose herself. Clark also looked ahead unblinkingly, failing to notice his son's eyes boring into him. At last he turned to his mother.

"Mom, how come you're so sad?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.

Lois wiped the tears off her cheeks and turned to face him. "It's because I'm going to miss your dad and your grandma when we go home to Metropolis."

Alarmed the boy turned to his father. "You mean you're not coming back with us?!"

Clark looked over his son's head at Lois' face and it broke his heart. He turned away and looked down at his son. "No, I'm not coming back with you; at least, not yet."

"But when?!?"

"Jason, we've already been through this, your father needs to stay out here to get better, and he'll come home when he's well enough." _Home…_both adult's thoughts lingered on the simple word.

"But he is well!" Jason cried out eagerly, hoping to convince his Dad to come back with them. "You're strong again! And you can run real fast, and see through stuff and set stuff on fire, and you can hear real good too! So why can't you come home with us _now_?"

Clark coughed uncomfortably. "There's more to it than that, Jason. I…I…" his mind raced around, searching for a reason to give to the boy. He came up with none. "I just can't right now."

Now it was Jason's turn to start bawling and Lois drew him to her while Clark patted his knee reassuringly. They'd calmed him down somewhat by the time they pulled into the parking lot but his eyes and cheeks were still red from crying. Lois picked him up and carried him over toward the elevator while Clark got the luggage, unable to look into their cheerless faces lest he too lose control.

She checked them and their luggage in before the trio headed toward the security line to say their last good-byes. Clark picked up his son and held him close to his chest as the child's sobs began anew.

"I'm going to miss you, Little Guy," he said, rubbing the boy's back soothingly.

"I'll…miss you…too…"

"Now you know this isn't good-bye forever, it's only temporary, right?"

Jason nodded his head vigorously. "Mmhmm."

"Ok then. Now be good and listen to your mother, Jason; I'll come home as soon as I can. I love you."

"I love you too, Daddy." They held each other awhile longer, Lois' eyes misting over at the scene before her. Clark finally put Jason down and reached out for her, quickly drawing her into his embrace.

He inhaled the scent of her flowery shampoo as she buried her face in his chest. "I'm going to miss you too, Lois," Clark said soothingly, stroking her hair. She could only nod in response. He leaned down and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back. Her lips caught his and they kissed, Jason solemnly looking on beside them. She pulled apart as the overhead speaker announced that their flight was beginning to board, and Lois wiped the tears off her face before taking Jason's hand and guiding him over to the security line. Once they were on the other side of the metal detectors they turned to wave and blow kisses to Clark once more before rounding the corner and heading to their terminal.

Clark stood there listening to them until they were safely stowed away on the plane. "Do you think he'll come see us soon, Mommy?" Jason asked innocently as she buckled him in by the window seat.

"I don't know, Baby, but I hope so."

"I hope so too…" he sighed and looked out the window as the night crept in. "I miss him already."

"I do too, Jason…I do too…"

Clark tuned them out, unable to listen to anymore, so sure was he that his heart would break. Tears stung his eyes as he strode towards the elevators and back to the car, a plan having taken hold in his mind before he even had a chance to pay the parking attendant at the gate.

* * *

He burst in through the front door of his boyhood home with an enthusiasm Martha hadn't seen since he was a teenager. 

"Mom, I…" he said, standing in the doorway. He stopped short after catching sight of the large green camping backpack she'd filled and placed next to the stairs.

She stepped out of the living room and looked directly at him. "I know."

Clark looked at her quizzically. "But how?"

Martha stepped forward and reached out, holding his face in her hands. "You should never play poker, Clark, you don't have the face for it. I saw how hard it was for you to let them go this evening, and I can only imagine it was harder once you got to Wichita; not to mention I caught you flying over the West field Tuesday night when I couldn't sleep. You're ready to go back now, Son…you're ready to go back and reclaim your life."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner about the flying. It was meant to be a surprise."

She pulled his head down toward her and kissed his forehead. "And it was. Now get going before you waste anymore time."

He held her close a moment more before turning away to pick up the pack, scanning it with his x-ray vision to see what, if anything, she might have missed. "You even packed some ham and cheese sandwiches," he said, turning back to her and grinning broadly.

"Of course! I wouldn't send my boy off flying halfway across the country on an empty stomach, now would I? Just make sure you call me when you get in, I want to know you got home alright."

He mimicked Jason's tone of voice and jokingly rolled his eyes. "_Yes, Mom_." Then, in a more serious tone, he added, "I love you."

"I love you too, Clark. Have a safe trip." And she watched him step out onto the porch with the pack situated on his back, then take off into the night sky, heading East towards his home and his family.

* * *

Flight 2234 arrived late at Metropolis Airport, and by the time Lois and Jason were in a cab traveling back to their apartment the boy had fallen fast asleep. The driver deposited them in front of their building and Lois paid him, hopping out and dashing around to the other side to lift the slumbering child out while the man put their luggage on the curb. She was cradling her son against her and turning around when she heard a deep voice call out, "May I help you there, Miss Lane?" 

Thinking it was someone who had a bone to pick with her over an article she'd written, Lois turned around ever so slowly, only to come face-to-face with Clark Kent.

"CLARK!" she screamed, clasping a hand over her mouth as Jason squirmed sleepily in her grip. He quickly relieved her of her burden before kissing her full on the lips, the driver of the cab shaking his head. She felt the small beads of perspiration on his forehead.

"I just got in…" he said as he walked over to the largest piece of luggage and grabbed it in his free hand before heading to the door. Lois noted how shaky he looked as he walked. "Made it all the way to Indiana…you know," he gestured his head upward, "Before running. I got up again around Pennsylvania and left my bag at my place after calling Mom, then I tracked your heartbeats here."

"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard! We would have still been in Metropolis in the morning."

He turned just in front of the door and caught her eye, the sad look captivating her. "I couldn't stay away, Lois, I just couldn't."

She pursed her lips and nodded, not trusting herself to speak, overjoyed at his early homecoming. She pulled the keys out of her handbag and let them both into the building.

* * *

When Jason awoke the next morning he walked into the living room to put on his cartoons and instead found a very large surprise resting on the sofa. The boy ran and woke his less-than astonished mother, dragging her along to see Clark sleeping soundly in their apartment, all the flying from the previous evening having knocked him out cold. Before she could stop him Jason pounced on his father, refusing to let him go. "I knew you'd be back, Dad, I knew it! I told you, Mom, didn't I? I told you he'd come home!" Lois grinned at the sight and couldn't stay away, soon joining them in a big bear hug on the couch. Clark found that words were not enough and so he lay there, safe and sound and with his family snuggled against him, smiling contently at the fact that his life had been restored.

**End of Part II**


	61. Chapter 61

**Part III: Lives Rebuilt**

_**Metropolis**_**, April 20, 2008.** Clark spent the day following his return to the City re-acclimating himself to the noise and the rush of people. He'd spent so much time isolated from it all on the Farm that coming back now felt so overwhelming, even more so than when he'd arrived in Metropolis the first time as a green journalist from the Midwest. That afternoon, Lois, Clark and Jason strolled through the park, enjoying one of the first of many fine spring days. Jason ran ahead to chase the pigeons.

"Are you sure it's not too soon?" Lois asked in a quiet voice.

"I don't know, but it's got to be done sometime, and the sooner the better. Besides, I think I've handled myself rather well so far today."

"Yes you have, but you and I both know that the bullpen is aptly named. I don't want you to get there and have something happen that would cause you to regress…not to mention if you break something unbreakable there in a moment of panic I might not be able to explain it away—and a room full of journalists is not the best place to have your secret exposed like that."

"Lois, stop worrying, I'll be fine," he said in his most endearing tone. "Now, where's Jason…" his voice trailed off as they rounded a small grove of trees on the side of the path and came face-to-face with a playground. Jason was on his stomach on the swings with his back to them, pretending he could fly like Superman. The real Man of Steel stood fifteen feet away and all the color drained out of his face as he stared down in horror at the foam rubber puzzle pieces on the ground of the enclosed play area. Lois watched her companion's demeanor change as he surveyed the scene.

Clark tipped the glasses to the end of his nose and quickly x-rayed the ground, finding little more than dirt, worms and ant colonies underneath. His breathing slowed as he pushed his glasses back up onto his face, and he gave Lois a forced smile. "I'm alright," he told her. Her face showed she was unconvinced by the declaration. "Really, I'm alright."

"If you say so." She led him over to a bench where they could chat and watch Jason at play.

"So I was thinking it would be a good idea to go into work together tomorrow, instead of arriving separately. I can tell Perry I'll be a little late and that way we can walk over…speaking of which, I should call him and let him know you're coming in."

"No, I want to go back as quietly as possible. Clark Kent's supposed to be invisible, remember? I don't want a whole lot of fanfare."

She blew at an errant wisp of hair that got in her face exasperatedly. "Honestly, Clark, you think that nobody noticed you were gone? EVERYBODY at the _Planet_ knew you were missing, and they were worried for you too! Jimmy called the MPD sometimes three times a week to see if there'd been any new leads, and Perry said a special prayer for you at grace last Thanksgiving at _my_ dining room table…and believe you me, that prayer wasn't for show either, he really did miss your farm boy ways back in the bullpen. Then there's the night janitor, who kept wondering when…" Lois looked up as she realized that Clark's mind had been elsewhere other than their conversation for some time.

It started as flashes as he stared out at the playground, watching Jason dart in and around the play equipment, making sure their son kept a normal speed. All of a sudden he thought he saw four brawny men strolling through the play area toward the boy and Clark made as if to get up; but in the blink of an eye they were gone. He kept watching in rapt attention and a moment later he saw _fifteen_ men of various ages, sizes and races, coming toward him looking ready for a fight. Some had brass knuckles laced with Kryptonite, others had just their fists, and one held an open net while another had a large glowing green club. Clark's heart rate skyrocketed and he held his arms out over his face to protect himself from the expected blows. He felt sick, and his limbs trembled from the imagined exposure and the real terror.

"CLARK!" Lois yelled at him to get his attention. He blinked again and the men were gone, but the nausea and the quivering were not.

"I…I…I think I'm gonna be sick," he said in a loud whisper before darting to the bushes and throwing up. Lois ran up behind him and placed a tender hand on his back as he stood hunched over, his hands on his knees.

"I've never…I…oh no…" he said in-between heaves before throwing up again.

"It's ok…it's ok," she said soothingly, rubbing his back like she did with Jason when he got upset. The little boy raced over to them when he saw the commotion and he had an extremely worried expression on his face. It reminded Lois of the look Superman used to give her after he'd rescued her from some serious trouble.

"Is Da-…_Mr. Clark_, ok?" he asked anxiously.

The man in question rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand and took several deep breaths. "I will be, I just need a minute," he replied. Mother and son huddled around him until he felt strong enough to stand and Lois directed them back toward her apartment.

"I've never thrown up before," he told Lois in a whisper as she drew his arm over her shoulder to better support him.

She gave him an incredulous look. "Really?"

He shook his head in the affirmative. "Unless there's Kryptonite present I've never even really been sick."

"But you said there wasn't any around."

"None that I could see, no."

Lois bit her lower lip in deep thought. "And the nausea came on very suddenly, didn't it?"

"You were there, Lois, you tell me; that's the first time I've ever thrown up."

She thought about it a little more as they got back on the streets and wound their way to her place. "What were you thinking about back there, before you got sick?"

"I'm not sure really. It was weird—like a cross between a flashback and a hallucination. I saw the men coming after…" he nodded in Jason's direction as the boy walked just ahead of them, "…then they disappeared. A moment later and there were more men, this time with weapons, and they were coming after me. I even started to feel the effects of Kryptonite but then I blinked and they were gone too; that's when I threw up."

Lois nodded solemnly as she fished for the keys to the apartment building in her purse. She waited until they made it up the stairs and through the front door before speaking again. "It sounds to me like you had a severe anxiety attack."

"But why?"

She turned around from the window she was facing. "Look at the triggers, Clark! We were at a playground, Jason was running around, and the ground of the play area looked identical to the one at his school where you were both attacked! It makes sense…I had the same thing happen after the experience on the Vanderworth yacht; I'd smell seawater everywhere…granted, we were living by the water at the time, but it was more than that. The scent was stronger, more prevalent than I ever remember it being, and it followed me around all day. I'd be sitting at my desk and I'd catch a whiff of it and just think about what happened to us on that boat…next thing I knew I'd start hyperventilating."

Clark spoke up from where he sat on the sofa, "I remember. I felt so badly for you, having to re-live it like that and not being able to do a thing about it to help you."

"But do you remember what you told me?"

He cocked an eye at her suspiciously. "I told you that you were made of strong stuff and that it would pass."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, tell the man what he's won!" Lois walked over with a triumphant smile on her face and put her hand on his shoulder. He laid his large one over her own.

"Ha ha, very funny, but I get the point. You're saying I'm strong too and that this will pass, I get it."

"I knew you would," she bent down to kiss him on the forehead before moving to the kitchen to get him some ginger ale.

"Blech," Jason said, sticking his tongue out as he caught sight of them kissing on his return trip to the living room.

* * *

_**Daily Planet, **_**April 21, 2008.** "Ok, this is the last time I'm going to ask you this I swear, but are you sure it's not too soon?" She placed her hand on his bicep as they rode up in the elevator together. 

"In for a penny, in for a pound. I'm back in Metropolis now, and it's not as if I'm ready to do anything else…_you know_…yet. I need to do this, even if later on I decide not to stay."

Lois let loose a sigh. "If you say so…I still wish you would have let me call Perry first to tell him you were coming in though."

"Absolutely not because then Jimmy would have gotten wind of it and made a big deal and then there'd be that awkward bullpen thing with the cake and the 'Good to see ya's!' from people who don't even know me. It's just easier this way, less fuss. Good ol' anonymous Kent, back in action, that's all I want."

"Ok…."

The ding of the bell alerted them that this was their floor and Lois quickly relinquished the hold she had on his arm. They'd both agreed beforehand to maintain a professional working relationship while at the office for the foreseeable future.

She took a step forward as Clark froze at the hustle and bustle before him. As always, Lois was right; he'd been on the farm for so long he'd forgotten what a swarm of humanity the bullpen was, and the sheer number of people combined with the excess of noise discombobulated him more than his last thirty-six hours in the City had. She saw the panic in his face and attempted to reach out a hand to steady him until she thought better of the gesture, opting instead to face him and verbally coax him into following her out onto the floor.

"You can do this, Clark, you've done it a hundred times before…just trust me, ok? Put one foot in front of the other and we'll get there just fine…"

It was as if he were learning to walk for the first time. Slowly, tentatively, he placed his right foot outside the cabin and into the elevator bay, followed by his left, until before he knew it he was standing near the cubicle just inside the bullpen's entrance. Lois had her back to all the hubbub and she knew she must have the appearance of someone tempting a scared cat into following her home. All was going well until Jimmy looked up from his desk.

"CLARK!" he yelped loudly, causing the man in question to nearly leap out of his skin. Perry looked out from his office at the shout and cessation of activities and caught sight of the tall man with the deer-in-the-headlights look at the other end of the room. He opened the door and watched the scene unfold.

"Patricia," Perry said quietly, reaching for the arm of the newest intern that walked past. He pulled out his worn leather wallet and handed her several twenty dollar bills. "I want you to go to Newman's Bakery around the corner and get the largest sheet cake they have. If it won't feed everybody on the floor then get two, I don't care what the cost is. Have them write 'Welcome Back Clark', and take that other intern, Brian, with you. Buy some sodas, cups, plates and forks too, and get back here quick as you can." He motioned for the girl to run off, which she did with great haste. She ran into her colleague at the other end of the room and ushered him into the stairwell, telling him of their 'mission' on the way down to the lobby.

"But who's this Clark guy?" the young man asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Beats me."

Back in the bullpen, if it hadn't been for Lois' intense glare Clark wouldn't have realized he was hovering about half an inch off the ground. He quickly came back to Earth and fumbled with the knot in his tie nervously, hoping no one else had noticed. All activity in the room stopped at Jimmy's shout and the young photographer ran forward to greet his friend; he wrapped his arms around him in an unwieldy hug, not bothering to care how un-manly the act appeared.

"Oh man, CK, we missed you!!!!!" Jimmy said as he released his skittish-looking friend. Clark managed a small grin. "You don't know how glad we are that you're alright."

"Uh thanks, Jimmy…I, uh…that is…it's good to be back…y-you know."

"Oh man…" he leaned in and hugged Clark again, not believing that he was real. "Pinch me."

"Wh-what?" Clark squeaked.

Lois nudged him away, an extremely annoyed expression crossing her face. "Jimmy, cut that out! Can't you see how hard this is for him?"

"Oh yeah, sorry…" he mumbled as he backed away.

Clark looked around the room, his eyes the size of baseballs behind his glasses. Several young women looked misty-eyed at him while the young guys looked pleased to see their resident 'goof-ball' back on the floor in one piece. The older men and women watched him with relieved expressions on their faces; they'd lost many colleagues in the field over the years and thought they'd have to add another one to the tally, only to have him return to their midst by all outward appearances unscathed. The news served to put smiles on all their cynical faces. Clark switched his briefcase to his left hand and gave them one of his typical dorky waves.

"Uh, hi everyone."

That simple salutation collectively broke them out of their trance and opened up the floodgates. Soon Lois was pushed out of the way as everyone rushed forward to welcome Clark back properly. Perry observed it all silently from the doorway of his office with a small grin on his face, while Jimmy grabbed the camera off his desk and snapped away.

Clark felt as if he were running a gauntlet. All the people in the room had lined-up along the main pathway through the cubicles, and they all wanted to pat him on the back or shake his hand as they offered their continued well-wishes. The constant touching, not to mention the confined space, made his heart pound wildly in his chest and Clark collapsed into his seat five minutes later clutching his briefcase to his torso, willing himself to calm down.

"LANE! KENT! My office, NOW!" He jumped again at the mention of his name and he swiveled around in his chair, never relinquishing the grip he had on his case; the startled look on his face hadn't abated much either. Clark noted that the blinds were drawn in the Chief's office. _That is __never__ a good sign, _he thought as he eyed the work space, _and I haven't even been back ten minutes._ The young man gradually rose up from his chair and headed into the room where Perry and Lois were waiting for him, shutting the door noiselessly behind him.

"Welcome back, Kent," the man said tenderly. His voice was kind, with only a hint of an edge to it, nothing that would betray the fact that he was the Editor-in-Chief of the _Daily Planet_ with a reputation for eating copy boy's heads for breakfast. Clark shook the hand that was extended to him before sitting in the offered seat.

"Lois tells me you've been through quite an ordeal," Perry continued, taking the seat behind his own desk.

Clark felt as if his throat were parched. "Yes, Sir, it was."

He turned a paternal eye on the man, but his reporter's instincts sensed that there was more to Kent's disappearance than the original story he'd been fed by Lois; however, he wasn't going to push the issue…yet. "Well I just wanted to tell you that we are_ all_ glad that you're back and in one piece." He sat there a moment longer with a thoughtful look on his face before the gruff Perry White of yore returned. "Now, I want the two of you to take it relatively easy this week. Lane, you're going to go out with Olsen and cover the unveiling of the newly refurbished Ferguson Theater downtown at noontime, and Kent, you're going to stay here and help me edit copy; some of these interns Met. U. sent to help me can barely spell their own names."

"Sure thing, Chief."

"Whatever you say, Perry."

The man almost gave himself whiplash as he looked from one to the other incredulously. "What?! No fighting for a better story? No whining about assignments? Who are you and what have you done with the real Lois Lane and Clark Kent?"

Clark chuckled nervously in his seat while Lois took the lead. "Really, Chief, don't you think you're being just a tad melodramatic?" She got up and unceremoniously left the room, seeking out Jimmy while leaving her partner alone in their Editor's office. Perry leaned forward, asking, "Are you sure you're alright, Son? Because if you want to talk to somebody about it I can give you a reference or make an appointment with…"

"NO! I mean, uh, no t-thank you, Chief. I'm just going to t-try and settle back in." He gulped audibly before standing and backing toward the door.

"Ok, but the offer still stands if you need it."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Lois casually strolled over to Clark's desk and placed an announcement about the upcoming Ferguson Theater's opening show before him. He began to edit it as she leaned over his shoulder, scrutinizing every stroke of the red pen. 

"What'd you change the title of the play for?"

He turned his head to face her. "Because it's called 'The Importance of Being _Earnest_', not 'The Importance of Being _Ernest_'. It's a play on words."

Lois pouted. "I still think I'm right."

"Well I _know_ for a fact that you're wrong." His blue eyes gleamed as he looked at her over the top of his glasses. The bullpen came to a halt for the second time that morning as everyone waited to see Lois' reaction at being openly contradicted. No one, absolutely _no one_, openly challenged Lois Lane unscathed…and the only person foolish enough to do so on a fairly consistent basis was Clark Kent.

"Let's continue this…_discussion_…away from prying eyes, shall we?" she said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, let's," he replied, his tone light and airy as if he couldn't see what was coming. Clark got up from his chair and followed her into the conference room as she shut all the blinds to ensure their privacy.

_Oh geez, it's the kid's first day back and she's already biting his head off…_Perry thought as he watched Lois stride into the room with her partner hot on her heels. _Well, better let them duke it out and move on then try to separate them_…_I'd just get caught in the cross-hairs. Some things never change, do they?_

The door had barely shut behind Clark when she threw her arms around him and drew him in for a sensuous kiss.

He pulled back for air several minutes later. "Earnest vs. Ernest? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Hey!" she cried out, playfully slapping him on the arm. "It was the only thing I could think of on such short notice, so sue me!"

"I'd rather do this," he said, grabbing her by the waist and drawing her close to him for another feverish meeting of the mouths. Slowly he withdrew his from hers and began kissing her tenderly along her jaw line toward the sweet spot on her neck.

"Oh…oh yeah…mmmhmmm…Clark?" her eyes fluttered open. "Clark, this is never going to work."

"What?!" he stopped his ministrations and gawked at her, arching both eyebrows in confusion.

"This professional-relationship-in-the-office thing, it's never going to work."

He immediately relaxed. "You'd be surprised at what a good actor I can be…"

"HA!" she laughed before quickly throwing a hand over her mouth…_we are supposed to be fighting after all, not making out…_ "Careful there or the Chief will think I've been rubbing off on you too much."

He gave Lois a shy smile. "Maybe you have." He went back to nibbling on her earlobe. _Oh man he's good,_ she thought as he gradually returned to her mouth.

A moment later he stopped suddenly, getting that faraway look in his eye that indicated something important was going on just out of her hearing range.

"What? What is it? A fire? A bank robbery? What?"

"Worse." He shook his head glumly. "It's a party, in my honor. So much for maintaining anonymity in the office…" She watched as Clark hung his head and rounded his shoulders, then took a deep breath and prepared to face his colleagues. He looked like he was being led to the guillotine instead of a celebration. The conference room door swung open at his touch and he faked a look of surprise as a chorus of voices rang out,

"WELCOME BACK, CLARK!!!!!"


	62. Chapter 62

_**Daily Planet**_**, April 21, 2008. **Lois and Jimmy had gone to cover the unveiling of the Ferguson Theater in downtown Metropolis while Clark pored over the various articles that Perry directed his way. He glanced at his watch some time later and noted that it was a little after one o'clock; _They must've gotten a bite to eat after the press conference_._ Lois probably took him to that deli over on Amsterdam that she likes_…_I wonder if it would look suspicious if I just 'accidentally' ran into them there_…he shook his head and quickly discarded the idea. _This is ridiculous; I can get along fine here without her for a __little__ while_. _We each have our own lives after all_… 

Clark went back to reading the article before him. It was a normally soporific piece about the effects the influx in the Canadian goose population had had that winter on area parks and grounds, but he soaked up the information like a sponge anyway and stored it away for future reference. He was just crossing out the capital C in the scientific name _canadensis_ when out of the corner of his eye he saw a man stop at his desk; in that man's hand was a bright green cylindrical object.

"**AHHHH!!!**" Clark hollered as he scrambled to get out of his chair, backing himself against the far wall on his right and slumping to the floor.

Gil just stood there, his large green highlighter in his hand, looking completely dumbfounded.

"What the hell is going on out here in my bullpen!" Perry shouted as he stepped out of his office. He saw that his newly returned investigative reporter was cowering in the corner, eyes wide, face pale and the tiniest trickle of sweat pouring down the side of his face…_and Clark Kent never sweats, _Perry reminded himself as he studied the agitated man. Clark was staring unflinchingly at Gil's hands. The Chief looked from Clark to Gil and back again before resting on Gil's face.

"What?" the middle-aged man asked completely baffled.

The Chief's face grew red in annoyance. "Well what'd you do to him?!"

"Me?! I didn't do anything! I stopped here to ask him if he'd finished editing Williams' piece and before I even opened my mouth he screamed and ran over there!" The heads of a few of the people working nearby nodded in agreement. They all turned around again to stare at the man in the corner.

Perry had never seen anyone look as terrified as Clark Kent did in that moment. Sure the man had always been on the timid and meek side, but he had also been growing more of a backbone in the months before his disappearance, and it disheartened the Editor-in-Chief to see him reduced to this child-like state. So high-strung was Clark that no one dared step forward to startle him; only Perry was brave enough to draw near.

The Chief got within ten feet and crouched down to be at eye-level with his reporter, calling out his name gently but firmly.

"Kent." The man in question turned his wide blue eyes on his boss. "Whatever it is, it's ok. You're safe here." Perry took another step forward.

"DON'T TOUCH ME! STAY AWAY!!!" The Chief noted how deep his voice got when he was frightened but didn't have time to dwell on it.

"Listen to me, Kent, you're in a safe place. So how about you get up and we'll go to the men's room and splash some cold water on your face, ok?" He took yet another step forward.

* * *

"Jimmy, I'm glad you finally said something to me about how you've been feeling; I was wondering why you were acting so odd around me. I would _never_ abandon Clark for Superman, they're both my friends, and deep down you had to have known that I was looking for both the whole time." 

He scuffed a foot along the floor of the elevator as they headed back up to the bullpen. "I did, it's just that for awhile there it didn't look it, and, well, I guess I just got mad at you because there was no one else to get mad at over the situation."

"Believe me, I understand. But like I said, I would _never_ desert Clark like that. So are we ok now?" she asked, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

Jimmy looked up into her face and beamed. "Absolutely." The doors opened on their floor and they quickly registered how eerily quiet it was.

_This is not good, this is __really__ not good_…Lois thought immediately upon stepping out onto the floor.

"**I SAID** **DON'T TOUCH ME**!!!" a baritone voice boomed from the back corner of the room, followed by the crunch of thick plaster crumbling.

"Hey, was that…?" but Lois ran off before the young photographer could finish his thought.

She pushed the flabbergasted people aside until she was at the front of the crowd watching a very cautious Perry White work his way toward a very petrified Clark Kent. Lois also took note of the large hole in the wall and the plaster dust on Clark's fist…_Thank God that wasn't concrete or we'd have some serious explaining to do_, she thought before coming to a stop beside her boss. She touched his arm gently and he looked up with brown eyes full of confusion, standing as he stared at her.

"Lois, I don't know…" he spluttered, unable to finish the sentence. The Editor-in-Chief of the great metropolitan newspaper was at an utter loss as to how to handle the situation.

"I know, Chief, I've got it." She relinquished the hold she had on him and bent down to the floor as he backed away to let her resolve things.

"Clark?" she asked gently, crawling towards him cautiously.

"Lois?! What are you doing here?!?" The look on his face now changed from one of pure fear for himself to extreme concern for her safety as well. It was a look she'd been on the receiving end of many times…from Superman.

She stopped and pursed her lips, afraid of what he might say that could potentially give him away in front of the crowd of on-lookers. "Clark, you're alright. You're at the _Daily Planet_ with me and Perry and Jimmy and everybody, remember? Today's your first day back. We had cake earlier, and when I left on assignment you were editing articles at your desk."

His tone went back up to it's slightly higher register. "My desk?"

"Yes, your desk, here at the _Daily Planet_. Remember?" she looked at him anxiously as she drew closer to him, placing a hand on his knee. "Do you remember?"

It was as if a light had gone on upstairs and the affable, mild-mannered reporter returned. The worry in his eyes as he searched Lois' face abated as she tacitly informed him that he hadn't done anything suspicious. Clark unfurled himself from the corner, straightened his tie, stood up, and shakily addressed the room.

"Uh, s-sorry about t-that e-everybody!"

Lois sidled up beside him, whispering, "Aren't you overdoing the stutter there a little, Smallville?"

"T-this isn't a-a-an act," he whispered back and she caught sight of his trembling hands. It took every reserve of her strength not to clutch it reassuringly.

"Alright people, show's over, let's get back to work now, ok?" Perry cried out to the crowd. They milled around a little longer. "I said let's MOVE IT PEOPLE!!!" The group quickly dispersed as the Editor-in-Chief strode over to the duo. He noticed how much the man in front of him quivered.

"C-Chief, I'm s-sorry. I promise I'll r-run down to the h-hardware store and f-f-f-fix this hole…"

"Don't worry about the hole, Kent, Maintenance will take care of it." He took a quick look at the fist-sized gap in the wall then back at Clark's hand, surprised not only at the man's strength but at the lack of pain he appeared to be in from inflicting that kind of damage. "Look, Son," he started, his voice dropping as he spoke. "You've worked hard enough for one day. How about you head home and get some rest? We'll see you in the morning."

Clark looked dismayed. "A-are you s-sure? I promise it w-won't happen a-again."

Both Perry and Lois nodded in unison and he resigned himself to ending his first official day back at work early and on a low note. Lois was about to offer to take him home and Clark stopped her with a look, not wanting to add to the few whispers already going around the office about them nor inconveniencing her on her first full day back as well. Jimmy readily agreed to escort his recently-returned friend back to his apartment instead.

Once the photographer left Clark alone he went to his refrigerator and pulled out a can of soda, then flopped dejectedly onto the couch in the living room. He was on the verge of slipping into one of his despondent moods when he recalled something he'd said to himself early on in his imprisonment; _You gotta crawl before you can walk, walk before you can run, run before you can fly_, a_nd that still holds true now_. _Tomorrow is another day…_Clark shrugged off the setback and took a sip of the soda before getting up and crossing the room to find something suitable to read to pass away the afternoon until Jason was let out of school.


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N: **There is a very slight edit made to a scene in Superman Returns that is mentioned here (**SPOILER ALERT: **Clark and Jimmy are at the bar before the Genesis disaster when they watch it unfold on TV. As Clark runs down the alleyway and pops open his shirt, instead of having the Superman suit on, he finds that it's still packed in his suitcase instead). I believe that this was how the scene was written in the shooting script, although they changed it in the final version of the movie.

* * *

_**Daily Planet**_**, May 1/2, 2008.** It felt slow to Clark, but day by day his work-life was improving. Things had gotten so much better at the _Planet_, in fact, that Perry was now sending him out on stories…provided that Lois was assigned to the project as well. 

"Wouldn't want you running off again now would we, Kent?" the Chief asked, chuckling nervously as he handed them their first joint assignment the previous morning.

Clark felt Lois' eyes travel down to the hands on his lap that were now trembling ever so slightly. "No, Sir, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

He and Lois had also managed to find time alone with one another in the workplace and away from prying eyes. Not only would Lois intentionally pick a fight over one or more of his editing choices, but Clark became just as bad as her; he'd shoot her a look and wander into the supply closet where she'd just 'happen' to follow a moment or two behind.

She was hastily re-arranging her hair one afternoon in the closet when Clark spoke up. "You know, I once spent six weeks living out of here when I first got back. Parked my suitcase right over there and no one noticed or said a word."

"Really? I always wondered where you were living when you were looking for an apartment."

"Well now you know. It's kind of funny actually; remember when you were on the Genesis?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's kind of hard to forget, Clark."

"Um, right, sorry," he said, coughing before he continued. "Well, Jimmy took me down to the Ace o' Clubs around the corner for a drink just before it happened…"

"Clark Kent! You mean to tell me you were drinking at 11:30 in the morning?! What got into you?"

He shirked his shoulders and thrust his hands in his pockets at being called out. "It's not like alcohol really effects me, Lois. And besides, Jimmy wasn't having a great day, and I'd just found out about you and Richard and Jason when he suggested it…" Clark let the thought trail off.

"Oh, right. So, you were at the Ace o' Clubs when you heard about the disaster and…"

"And I booked it right out of there. I knew you were on that plane, but even if you hadn't been I wasn't going to sit back and watch it crash, killing all the people on board and whoever had the misfortune to be around on the ground. So I'm running down this alleyway when I pop open my shirt and I realize I don't have the suit on; it's in my suitcase back here. I fly up onto the roof and super-speed down here to change so I can get to the plane and when I come out I realize that I still have my glasses on. Luckily everyone was too busy watching the drama unfold on TV because that would have been _really_ difficult to explain away…Superman using the _Daily Planet_ as a public changing room while wearing Clark Kent's glasses." He chuckled off-handedly as she ran a hand over his chest to straighten his tie. She noted that he wasn't wearing the suit at that moment either.

Clark's daily life with Lois and Jason had also gotten better, if such a thing was possible. The adults hadn't been 'together' since their time on the farm, yet Clark was over at Lois' apartment every night nonetheless; cooking or flying-in dinner, reading to Jason, and helping him with his homework. Once their boy was safely tucked into bed he would do a quick fly-by around the world, making sure everything was alright, before he'd return to Lois to share a glass of wine and talk or watch a movie or the news before heading back to his own place. In the morning Clark would fly back to Lois' apartment and help get Jason packed and ready for school while making sure she was properly caffeinated ("The name of the game today is Colombian or Italian. Now which one do you want?" he'd tease her, holding out a cup of the strong brown brew in each hand. "I hate that you're a morning person…" she'd growl at him before answering "Give me the one on the left." He'd hold it just out of reach until she said the magic word, "Please.") He wanted so badly to make up for everything he'd missed with his family when he'd traveled to Krypton that even a task as mundane as taking out the garbage could produce a smile on his face.

He was lying alone in bed that Thursday night still grinning as he thought back on the evening's events. First, he'd taken Jason on an after-dinner flight around Metropolis, giving him a one-of-a-kind view of the City that Never Slept. After they returned home from their trip he and Lois placed Jason in bed before Clark brought her over to the living room window for her own nighttime flight.

They broke the cloud cover directly above the apartment and danced in the moonlight to their own music while he kept an eye on their slumbering son. Clark treasured the connection he and Lois shared more than he thought humanly possible…_or even Kryptonianly possible_. No one else understood him, challenged him, listened to him, carried such concern for him…in short, _loved him_ the way that she did. And now that all the cards were out on the table, now that there were no more secrets to overcome, he did everything in his power to let her know she was loved just as much, if not more, in return. He lay in his bed and took a deep breath in, inhaling the scent of her perfume from where it had attached itself to him as their bodies clung together in their mid-air waltz; he was recalling the sound of her laughter as he'd twirled her around on his toes when the blood-curdling shriek reached him.

It was a little before 1 AM and a woman fourteen blocks over had screamed for help; not from Superman, specifically, but the panic in her voice let him know how badly assistance was needed. Without a second thought he leapt out of bed and spun into the suit, taking off out the nearest open window. He arrived at the site less than fifteen seconds after first hearing the call and scanned the scene below.

Susan Mitchell had been walking home after her shift at Peabody's Diner when she heard the footsteps fall into place behind her three blocks from her apartment. She reached a hand into her purse, searching in vain for the pepper spray she carried for protection when the man accosted her by pressing the muzzle of a gun into her back. He nudged her into an unlit alley nearby.

"Give me your bag and you won't get hurt," he said as he marched her along. She turned to face him, knees quaking, and handed him the purse, just wanting to get him as far away as possible; the thug took the bag then took a good look at her. Susan was in her mid-twenties and had the build of a dancer, all of which were apparent to the thief in spite of the drabness of her uniform. He took another step forward. "I changed my mind, I want something else too…" he sneered at her just before he lunged for her blouse.

She screamed for help and kicked him in the gut, knocking him off balance and giving her a chance to flee down the alleyway. Superman arrived overhead as her attacker caught his breath and began picking his way over to where she was huddled in a corner, the brick walls of three neighboring buildings preventing her escape. He heard the mad thumping of her heart and the rapid inhalation and exhalation of her breath as well as smelled the flowery perfume, so similar to Lois', that she wore.

"You shouldn'ta done that you Bitch!" the man snarled as he caught sight of her again.

Susan shut her eyes tight, not wanting to witness whatever he was about to do to her next. But instead of the blow she'd been expecting she heard the cracking of concrete and a dull thud as something slid down to the ground. When she opened her eyes again a pair of red boots stood before her.

"Are you alright?" he asked in his deep voice, holding a hand out to help her up while hastening to reassure her that she was safe. It was a question he'd asked a thousand times before in his capacity as Superman, but this time Clark personally understood the fear that she felt and wanted to prove to her that her attacker was no longer a threat. Susan stared dumbly at the Man of Steel before looking beyond his left boot to see the man crumpled and unconscious on the ground; there was a crack in the brick wall from where he'd made impact.

Clark helped her to her feet, turning around after he did so to follow her gaze and catching sight of the attacker's slumped form. "I guess I got a little over-zealous there…" he said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand and sounding more Clark-like than he had intended. He turned his attention back to her and conscientiously modified his voice. "I'll come back and deliver him to the proper authorities after I escort you home, Miss…?"

She shook her head at once again being addressed by the long absent Superman. "M-Mitchell, Susan Mitchell."

He held out his hand to her. "And where do you live, Miss Mitchell?"

"Uh…1616 Bradford St.?"

"Alright." Superman picked her up without another word and had her at the front door of her apartment building exactly one minute later. She stepped back on solid ground and had the windswept look in her hair and face, a face that was now staring up into the Man of Steel's in awe while fumbling for her bag and keys. That's when Clark noticed that it had been left behind in the alleyway.

"I'll be right back." The words were barely out of his mouth when he took off in a blur of blue, red and yellow, returning directly before her with her pocket book in hand. He was about to step away and fly off when she spoke to him.

"Am I the first?" she asked timidly.

A confused expression crossed his face. "I'm sorry?"

"Am I the first…" she swallowed hard, debating whether it was wise to continue or not, "Am I the first to be rescued since you've been back?"

It was all Clark could do to nod in the affirmative; he was afraid she might be angry at him for not appearing sooner and saving others, given that it had been two and a half months since he'd been freed. Susan reached out a hand and placed it gently on his forearm. "I prayed for you, when those men held you captive. My whole parish did. I'm so sorry for what they did to you, Superman, but I'm glad you're alright."

Susan watched as the most powerful man on the planet stood before her, stupefied. "Thank you," he responded humbly.

"No, thank _you_ for finding me in time tonight." She moved in and quickly hugged him to reinforce the extent of her gratitude before stepping back and unlocking the door to the building. He waited on the front steps and watched her through the walls as she jogged up the three flights of stairs and entered her apartment, waiting for her to lock the door behind her before taking off to turn her would-be attacker over to the police.

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** May 2, 2008**. Lois felt the sudden rush of wind in her bedroom and rolled over, expecting to come face-to-face with a certain little half-Kryptonian child when instead she caught sight of Clark sitting in a chair by her bed, watching her sleep. She sat up and turned on the light on the nightstand beside her, blinding herself in the process. 

"I'm sorry I woke you, Lois, I just…" he shook his head, realizing how foolish it was to show up at such an hour. "I'm sorry, I'll come back in the morning."

She reached out a hand and caught his forearm, just like Susan Mitchell had not fifteen minutes before, and prevented him from leaving. "What is it, Clark?" she asked anxiously, catching sight of him in his uniform for the first time. "Obviously something happened tonight. Whatever it is you can tell me."

He sighed and shook his head, resting his elbows on his knees. "I…I…I saved a woman tonight. Susan Mitchell, I saved her. She was walking home from work, minding her own business when some guy tried to mug her before…" he couldn't bring himself to say it, the word always tasted foul on his tongue, "…trying something else. He had her backed into a corner in an alleyway and she was so petrified and I knew just what she was feeling; even without my abilities I would've been able to tell you just what was going through her head at that moment. Her heart pounding in her ears, her eyes darting back and forth, her mind racing…

"I could've killed him, Lois; I could've killed her attacker and I almost did. I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't, but I just got so angry that I swooped in and knocked him back twenty feet into a brick wall. The police said it looked like he'd have a pretty bad concussion but that he'd survive, and that even if he did press assault charges against me they'd never let it see the light of day. Assault charges, can you believe that?! I've never assaulted anyone in my life before…" his voice rose to a high-pitch squeak then dropped back down as he finished, "…before everything else happened."

Clark hung his head even lower and took a deep breath before continuing. "But Susan said something to me after I brought her back to her apartment that effected me more than I thought it would. She asked me if she was the first person I'd rescued since I'd been back. I thought she was going to be mad at me, seeing as how I'd been around all these weeks…"

Lois interrupted him. "But how could you think that?! You were in a coma for part of that time, not to mention that your powers didn't magically manifest themselves overnight once you regained consciousness! I'm surprised you're doing as well as you are so soon, all things considered…"

He held up a hand to stop her. "Wait. When I acknowledged that she was the first she took a hold of my arm and told me that she prayed for me—that her _whole parish_ prayed for me, and that she was glad I was alright. Then she _hugged me_, Lois. I've had people thank me for saving them before, but…but this…" Clark looked up at her with tears silently running down his cheeks as the words got caught in his throat.

She understood and quickly stole out of bed to stand beside his seated figure, holding him close to her. Susan's words were confirmation of what he didn't know he'd been waiting to hear; that the rest of the world appreciated him, that they considered him more human than alien, and that the majority of the planet's population didn't want him dead and gone. And instead of being jealous of this woman, as she would have been in the past, Lois was grateful that she had helped bring Superman permanently back into the world.

Lois held his head to her stomach and ran her fingers through his thick dark hair as Clark cried unrestrained into her silk nightgown, letting the lingering bitterness seep out. A long time passed before his tears slowly abated and she broke the awkward stillness in the air with her trademark sarcasm.

"So I guess this means no early retirement for you then, huh?"

He chuckled at her as he broke away, rubbing his damp eyes against his sleeve. "I guess not. Are you ok with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged his shoulders, not knowing why either, before rubbing his eyes once more. "I...I think I'm going to call it a night. Could you do me one last favor though, before you head back to bed?"

"Anything, Clark," she said, smiling benevolently at him before kissing him chastely on the forehead.

"Would you call Lt. Henrickson or Agent Woodrow and see if they can get everyone who helped search for me assembled at City Hall tomorrow? Now that I'm back I want to thank them all for what they did, preferably _before_ they read about my return in the papers."

She nodded and helped him up to his feet, guiding him over to the window he left open on his way in. "I understand and I'll get right on it, but you have to promise me you're really going to go home; you need to take a hot shower and get some rest. You've had a big night tonight and you're going to need your strength for tomorrow as well; the rest of the world can wait."

Clark stopped suddenly and faced her, the pair of them framed by the window. "I love you," he told her simply, leaning in and sealing his declaration with a passionate kiss.

Lois blushed and shuddered at the tingle that ran up and down her spine. No one else had ever produced such an effect on her before, and she continued to revel in his caresses as if she were a teenager experiencing such sensations for the first time.

"I love you too," she replied when he stepped away and hovered by the window. He smiled at her tenderly before flying off to his own apartment.

She stood staring after his soaring figure for a while longer before crossing the room and picking up the phone beside her bed, punching in some numbers. "Hello, Al? It's Lois. Look, I know it's late, but can you assemble everyone from the Task Force to meet at City Hall in the morning? Say around 9:30 in the front lobby?"

He sat bolt upright in bed. "Of course, but is everything alright?" Al asked, not attempting to hide the anxiety in his voice.

Lois smiled at the concern the grizzled MPD Lieutenant still showed towards the safety of the Man of Steel. "Everything's fine, there's just someone who wants to say thank you to everyone,_ personally_…"


	64. Chapter 64

_**Metropolis City Hall,**_** May 2, 2008**. Superman landed without a sound at the top of City Hall's front steps and shielded himself behind one of the columns at 9:29 am. Lois came walking briskly around the corner from where he had deposited her a moment before and bounded up the steps to reach him so that they could enter together.

"Did you remember to stash your suit nearby?" she whispered to him as they strode toward the front doors.

"Yes, Dear."

"And do you have your glasses with you?"

"Yes, Dear."

"Now don't forget, no running off after an emergency until both Superman _and_ Clark Kent have had a chance to put in an appearance. We need to both be seen in order for Perry to buy our story later on…"

"Yes, Dear."

She stopped just short of the door and looked up at him. "You enjoy patronizing me, don't you?"

"Only occasionally," he replied impertinently, almost bending down to kiss the tip of her upturned nose. Both sets of eyes went wide in alarm at their lapse in judgment and they proceeded into the building without another word.

A large contingent of men and women stood milling around talking in small groups, wearing their dress uniforms or best-pressed suits. Lt. Henrickson spotted Superman first as he entered the lobby and watched as the superhero's blue eyes went wide at the number of people congregated there. Al gave a very loud cough that echoed against the marble floor and tiled walls of the room, sending all eyes focusing first on him, then on Superman who stood just inside the front entryway. It was as if someone flipped a switch, for they all broke and re-formed ranks in an instant, standing in smart rows on either side of the space while giving the Man of Steel a wide path with which to pass through. Special Agent Woodrow and Lt. Henrickson stepped forward to greet them.

Al stretched a hand out in welcome. "It's good to see you up and about again, C—_Superman_," he said, carefully correcting himself. Clark smiled to let him know it was alright and that he appreciated how difficult maintaining his secret was.

"It's good to be here, thanks to all of you," he replied, loud enough for those behind Al to hear. Agent Woodrow stepped forward and offered her hand as well.

"Nice to see you, Superman."

"You too, Special Agent. And thank you again, for everything."

A hint of a blush rose to the woman's cheeks before she restrained it. "My pleasure, Sir. Now, how would you like us to proceed here? We have a podium all set up…" she gestured toward the end of the rows of people, where numerous flags framed the platform usually reserved for the Mayor's press conferences.

"No," he said, giving a small shake of the head. "I want to meet everyone face-to-face and thank them myself."

Agent Woodrow was all business. "Understood, Sir." She led Clark off toward the first row on his left, with Al trailing behind to talk to Lois.

"Good to see you again, Lois," he said, leaning in for a hug.

"Good to see you too, Al, especially like this," she replied, hugging him in return and daring to glance at Clark and Clarissa's backs as they made their way down the line.

"He seems to be doing well," the older man remarked, "Really well. You know, when you called this morning, I thought for a second he'd gone missing again. I was about to suggest you stick a GPS device somewhere in that uniform of his…" Lois laughed outright at the idea as they trailed several feet behind their friends.

"You know he'd never go for that! Besides, where would he put it?" Clark looked over at her, barely able to hide the crimson rising to his cheeks, and she winked suggestively at him.

Al coughed uncomfortably. "Um, good point. If you'll excuse me…" he darted off to re-join the group and help with the introductions.

True to his word, Clark stayed for over two hours, shaking hands with anyone and everyone who played a part in helping to locate him during his abduction. The members of the FBI and MPD assembled there knew he was grateful for their assistance, but to hear it personally directed at them from the man himself showed how much he truly cared, more than any heartfelt speech addressed to the crowd of them could have done. After thanking the last person he stood in a small group with Lois, Agent Woodrow, Lt. Henrickson and a few of the computer technicians before getting that faraway look in his eye and darting out the nearest window.

"I'm sure his services were needed elsewhere just then," Lois said casually with a wave of her hand, offering up the flimsy excuse for his abrupt absence. The technicians wandered off in search of something to drink and to talk shop just as Clark Kent came jogging in to the building. He headed over toward Lois, nearly falling on all fours as he tripped on the toe of his shoe, while still managing to hold onto the notepad and pencil in his hands.

He called out to her in his higher-pitched voice as he approached. "H-hey, Lois! Did I miss anything important?"

"No, Clark, you didn't. Come here, I want you to meet some people. Agent Woodrow, Lt. Henrickson, this is my partner at the _Planet_, Clark Kent. He just returned to Metropolis two weeks ago." He gave them a dorky wave and pushed his glasses up higher on his face.

"Hi, nice to meet you." He held out his hand awkwardly.

They openly gawked at him; they'd seen him sullen and recuperating on the farm, and just now as the resplendent Man of Steel, but the pair had yet to meet the bumbling reporter. Lois nudged Clarissa, who she was standing closest to, and the woman responded immediately.

"Oh right, Clark Kent…nice to finally meet you. Lois has told us all about you," she pumped his hand several times trying to overcompensate for the strangeness of the exchange. _Wasn't he just standing beside me a moment ago...?  
_

Al coughed. "Kent, right, right, I remember her mentioning you a time or two…Good to meet ya!"

"Likewise," Clark replied, winking at them, before turning to Lois. "Gee, um, do you think we have e-enough here for our story? Cause if so we b-better get back before the Chief has our h-hides."

"I think you're right. Well it was good seeing you again, and thanks for arranging this for Superman."

Clark piped up again. "Yeah, I caught him on the w-way out. He said it was swell meeting everyone."

Al and Clarissa looked at each other as Lois stifled a laugh. "Swell?" they asked one another simultaneously. Lois and Clark's eyes glimmered with mischief as they made their way toward the exit and back to the _Planet_. She hailed them a cab and they poured themselves into the back.

"A little over the top there don't you think, Smallville?"

He readjusted his glasses and looked her over. "I just wanted to bring the point home; they'd only ever really seen me just after…you know...and I had to emphasize the fact that here in Metropolis I'm _that_ Clark Kent while…" he made the flying motion with his hand, "…_that _is who _he_ is. Get it?"

She nodded. "I get it, I just hope Al and Clarissa do too." Lois stared wistfully out the window at the scenery zooming by. "I also hope that we don't get a pair of matching pink slips from Perry."

"Agreed."

* * *

The duo re-entered the bullpen and made a beeline for the Chief's office, knocking once before stepping inside; he glowered at them as they approached. "Nice of you two to drop in. Now if you weren't the best damn investigative team this side of the Mississippi I'd tell you to just turn right around, but as it is I'll give you thirty seconds to explain why you're nearly _three hours late_."

"We have a Superman exclusive, Chief!" Lois said, waving her notes triumphantly in the air. Clark nodded in mute agreement just beyond her shoulder.

Perry's face broke out into a Cheshire cat-like grin. "Really? And what, pray tell, did he have to say that took up your ENTIRE MORNING?" He stared at Kent as he spoke, knowing the man was the weaker of the duo standing before him.

Lois knew how to handle her Editor, she'd always known how to handle him, and so she deftly directed his attention toward her and away from her partner. "He came to see me last night, Chief, told me he'd saved somebody and then he asked if I could arrange for him to meet his rescuers to thank them personally before they read about his return in one of the papers."

"It was the right thing to do," Clark interjected, with Lois glaring at him over her shoulder. _Way to NOT call attention to your alter-ego there, Farm Boy, _she communicated to him telepathically.

She resumed her narrative. "So I called Lt. Henrickson and he helped me assemble everyone at City Hall today. That's where Clark and I were this morning, covering the meeting at Superman's request."

"And you were the only ones there?" Perry asked greedily.

"Yes Sir," Lois replied triumphantly.

"Ha ha! Scooped you again, Miranda!" he cried out to the _Planet's_ rival editor as he jumped out of his chair. Lois and Clark smiled at one another and at him before he remembered himself. Straightening out immediately, Perry barked at them, "Well what are you kids waiting for? I want that copy on my desk before three o'clock, or else!" They hastened out of the room to get to work.

That evening's edition of the _Daily Planet_ just barely undersold the paper's two previous highest selling issues; that of Superman's first appearance in Metropolis and Lois Lane's post-abduction exclusive with the Man of Steel.


	65. Chapter 65

_**Daily Planet, **_**May 16, 2008.** Superman had been making heroic rescues and averting disasters on a regular basis since his return to Metropolis, with only a minute change in his behavior here and there, and the _Daily Planet_ had the headlines to prove conclusively that the Man of Steel was back in action. Perry was extremely pleased with his people because he knew better than anybody else that Superman news sold more papers than stories about tragedy or sex, and circulation had jumped for the first time since August, 2007.

And so it was that on that particular Friday evening Clark clutched the object in his jacket pocket once more, steeling himself for the conversation he was about to have with his Editor-in-Chief before knocking boldly on the man's office door. He'd chosen an auspicious time to have the discussion, given the good mood the Chief was in, and he hoped it would end well. Clark had already spoken to his mother out in Smallville earlier in the day and she was ecstatic at what he had planned, but his Midwestern morals wouldn't let him proceed until he'd talked to Perry White.

"Come in!" the voice behind the glass door called out. Clark entered the room and pulled the blinds—in spite of the late hour on a Friday night he didn't want to be seen by any prying eyes.

Perry looked up from his work and raised an eyebrow. "Something I can help you with there?"

Clark turned to face him, coughing and shuffling his feet. _Come on, Kent, get it together_…_you've rehearsed this a hundred times, now it's time to just do it_.

"Chief, I…" he shook his head, stopping himself and trying a different tact. "Ok, Chief, you and I both know that Lois doesn't really get along with the General all that well, and, well, you're the closest thing to a father she's h-had all these years in the City, and that's why I…"

"Is this going somewhere, Kent?" Perry asked, a little concerned.

"Yes S-Sir, sorry Sir, it's just…what I'm trying to do is to ask for your permission to marry Lois," he said hastily, pulling out the box from his pocket and opening it on the desk in front of his Editor-in-Chief.

Perry couldn't have been more stunned than if the young man before him had just told him he was Superman. Everyone in the office knew of Clark's longstanding crush on Lois, but he thought that had gone by the wayside in favor of friendship since his trek around the globe. He stared at the ring in the jeweler's box in front of him; it was a white gold band with three round-cut diamonds, the larger one sitting a little above the smaller ones flanking it on either side. _The kid is really in earnest here_…he thought, looking up into Clark's anxious face while unease was written on his own countenance.

"Then, Son, I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no." Clark flopped into the chair opposite Perry with his mouth hung open like a fish. The older man got up and walked around the edge of the desk and leaned against it's front, clasping a hand on Clark's shoulder. "Trust me, it's for your own good."

"But I don't…I don't understand…why would you…huh?" Clark looked up at him with large, questioning, blue eyes. The Chief suspected he was on the verge of tears.

_Oh has he got it bad…_Perry thought to himself as he looked down at the young reporter. _Better try and let him down easy, save Lois the trouble_.

"Look, Kent," he said, trying to soften the blow as much as possible. "You and Lois have a great partnership here, and a great friendship in and out of the office, but she doesn't think of you _in_ _that way_. I'm just trying to help you out here by making sure you don't embarrass her or yourself by asking her what you just asked me." He reached over the desk and handed back the ring.

Clark couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle. "So that's your only objection then, you think she doesn't love me? Otherwise you'd have given me your blessing, right? Am I understanding you correctly?"

Perry didn't notice that the man had dropped his stutter, and he was halfway back to his seat when the question stopped him dead in his tracks. He spun around. "My only objection? That's a heck of a one to have when you're talking about marriage…"

"Just hold that thought one minute, ok Chief? Just one minute," Clark quickly walked out of the room and retrieved the lead and glass photo frame off his desk, bringing it back with him into Perry's office while the Editor re-seated himself. "I want you to take a look at this," he urged, placing the object in the man's hands.

The Chief stared at the photo. "It's a picture of your mother."

"No, look _behind_ that picture," he said, pulling it out at one end of the frame. Perry watched as the image of a smiling Lois and Jason slowly emerged. He guessed it was several months old, as Lois' hair was now longer and Jason looked bigger in person than he did in the photo. Clark finished pulling the first picture out all the way and revealed the Metropolis Meteor's mascot standing in-between the three of them.

The three of them. At a ballgame. _That's not all that unusual, like I said before, they're friends_. "I still don't know what I'm looking at here, Kent."

"Look carefully, Perry, you'll see it. It was taken awhile ago but it's still there; it's always been there."

The man held the frame up closer to his face for further inspection, scrutinizing the countenances of it's three chief occupants. _Lois-Jason-Clark, Clark-Jason-Lois, Lois-Jason-Clark…Jason…_

Now Perry and Richard both knew when the younger man took up with Lois that she was already pregnant, but as the birth drew near the younger White considered himself to be the father, if not biologically than emotionally, and Lois agreed to it too. It fit, _they_ fit, it was logical. And so Richard's name went on Jason's birth certificate as his father.

But now Perry was seeing the truth for the first time: _Jason is Clark Kent's son, Clark and Lois' son…oh my God, then that means…_"Are you Superman?" the Chief asked suddenly. Clark felt as if he could've been bowled over by a feather.

"Excuse me?"

"Richard told me that before they broke up Lois had said that Superman was Jason's biological father. Now I'm looking at this picture here, and if what you're trying to tell me is true, that you're the father, than one of the three of you is sorely mistaken or someone's masquerading around in tights and a cape."

_It's spandex, not tights,_ he thought to himself as he settled uncomfortably back into the chair opposite Perry. The way Clark saw it, he had two options: 1.) Lie to his Editor-in-Chief or 2.) Tell Perry the truth and kiss his private life, as well as the safety and security of his, Jason and Lois' futures good-bye. It wasn't that he didn't trust his boss in keeping the secret…_it just makes it harder to draw the line when it comes to who to tell and who not to tell. If I tell the Chief then sooner or later I'll have to tell someone like Jimmy too, and then there go my weekend games of pick-up hoops and my life as a normal man,_ he rationalized with himself. Clark swallowed hard. _I never lie_._ I need to lie, but I never lie…now I know how my Mother feels each time she's in this position…_

"She was…_mistaken,_ Chief. Something happened on the Gertrude that made Lois suspect that Superman was the father, but I am. We know that conclusively now." He took a breath to steady himself, hoping he wouldn't have to delve any further into the half-lie he was telling, but Perry was too absorbed in the photograph to question the veracity of the statement. Clark's teeth ground in his head at the falsehood, but he felt it was one that could not be helped…_I'll have to talk to Lois about this later…_

"My God…I had no idea that…that you two…" he looked up at Clark questioningly, then back to the picture again.

"It happened once, before my trip. Obviously I didn't know she was pregnant when I went away or I never would've left—I never would've left her or our son. And we were just resuming our _relationship_ when I went missing last year. Perry, I don't want to miss out on anymore time with my family; I've already wasted too much time as it is."

The older man looked up and across the desk at the melancholy expression on Clark's face._ I won't be the one to stand in the way of their future happiness…_He handed the photo frame back to it's owner. "Well then you have my blessing; not that you need it, necessarily, but I understand it's your way. I won't stop you." He paused, watching the effect his words had on the young man before him as he was overcome with pure joy. "So, do you know when you're planning to ask her?"

"Yes. Tomorrow night, over dinner."

Perry nodded. "Sounds like you have it all figured out. Well good luck, Son."

"Thanks, Chief…w-wait, do you think I'll need it?" Clark asked anxiously, wondering if Perry still had his misgivings about Lois accepting his offer. The man laughed at the young reporter's apprehension and shook his head, turning to stare out the window at the City below. Clark let himself out without another word.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**May 17, 2008. **He had it all worked out…and he was still a bundle of nerves. _Ok, Mom agreed to watch Jason, so I just have to remember to fly him out there when he gets here. Dinner from Paris is waiting to be re-heated next to the stove…I wonder if that thing even works?_ Clark crossed the room to check the appliance. _Right, of course it does, Mom's used it before, remember? Wait, what do I need a stove for when I have heat vision? God I wonder if all men act like this before they pop the question…Ugh…ok, CD player with violin music? Check. Lights around the balcony strung up and ready to go? Got that too. The table's all ready, so what else am I forgetting?_ He paused as he paced around the room, trying to recall what was missing. _The ring! Oh my God the ring, where did I put it, I know I left it someplace safe so it wouldn't fall out over the Atlantic somewhere…_Clark looked through the walls and saw the simple black box sitting on top of the bureau in his bedroom, next to the glasses he decided to forego for the evening. 

"Right," he said out loud to the empty apartment before speeding off to retrieve it. He had just tucked it into his tuxedo jacket pocket when the buzzer went off. Clark hid the food in one of the kitchen cabinets then sped off to answer the door.

"Hi," she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek as he ushered them in. Lois wore a strapless royal blue dress that reached down mid-calf, and her hair fell in chestnut waves around her shoulders. He returned her kiss, suppressing the urge to do more as he eyed Jason standing beside her, carrying a small backpack.

"You look amazing," he whispered as he stood back up and admired her. He noted that she had a long, thick, woolen coat in her hand and he eyed it suspiciously.

Lois caught the look. "Well you wouldn't tell me where we were going so I thought I'd be ready for any climate," she lifted the jacket up and revealed a bag with a pair of boots and a pair of sneakers inside.

"Nice to see you come prepared," he laughed, bending down and picking up Jason in the process. "Are you all set to go to Grandma's, Buddy?"

"Yep!"

"Ok now, and remember, be on…" Lois started to say before he cut her off.

"I know, be on my best behavior, I will." He turned to his father. "Can we go flying now, _please_?"

Clark nodded. "Alright, hold on tight." He looked at Lois. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be right here," she replied to the gush of wind that hit her face. Lois placed her bag and coat on the armchair before seating herself comfortably on the sofa, wondering what he had in store for her that evening. He returned back in ten minutes time.

"Did you have a good trip?"

"I didn't really stay long—Jason was eager to kick me out so he and Mom could make ice cream sundaes and stay up late watching movies."

She laughed at the thought. "Well it is a grandmother's prerogative to spoil her grandchild and it seems to me she's doing a good job. So, Smallville, where are you taking me this evening?"

Clark held out a hand to her. "If you'll just follow me right this way…" he led her out onto the patio and flicked a switch. The white Christmas lights he'd hung around the area earlier lit the space up wonderfully, and he used his heat vision to light the two additional candles that sat atop the table in the middle of the area.

"Oh, Clark, this is beautiful!" she exclaimed as he held her chair out for her.

"Red or white wine, Madam?"

"White. No, red, if you have it." He hastened off and returned with two full wine glasses, stopping to turn on the music as he went by.

"Really, Clark, you outdid yourself, this is lovely," she exclaimed gesturing at the scene around her.

"Ahh, but I have the best view." The blush grew on her cheeks and she reached across the table for his hand, stroking it idly with her forefinger. They chatted for awhile, about Jason, their work, other random tidbits of their daily lives, before he heard Lois' stomach rumble and brought out the first course salads.

He watched her munch thoughtfully on her spinach and feta cheese before asking, "Do you remember what you were doing a year ago today?"

"Hmm? A year ago today? No, I'm afraid I don't recall, why?"

"I just find it funny that exactly 365 days ago you were out in Smallville trying to get the 'dirt' on me from my Mother, and now we're sharing an intimate dinner for two on my balcony, that's all."

"Was that really a year ago?" she asked animatedly, looking up and counting off the time using the fingers from her free hand. "Oh my gosh! It feels like such a long time ago, so much has changed…" she let the thought trail off as they both reflected over the events of the past twelve months.

Clark studied her face intently. He had planned to wait until after dinner to ask her the question that would change the course of both their lives but he found his resolve waning. Placing his fork down next to the salad he barely touched, he said, "I'm afraid I have a confession to make."

"Oh? And what's that?" she asked, as she resumed eating once more.

"I told a half-lie to Perry yesterday."

Lois nonchalantly picked at her salad, unfazed by his declaration. "Was it about when you went to help out with that bridge collapse in Massachusetts? Because I know you said you never lie but in that case I would hardly worry about it…"

He shook his head. "No, it wasn't that. I tried to tell Perry that I was Jason's father, and he was under the impression, via Richard, that Superman was Jason's father, so I had to tell him that I wasn't Superman but that Jason is indeed mine."

Lois dropped her fork. "You told him WHAT?! Why?!?!"

"Because he didn't believe me when I asked him for his permission to marry you. He told me you and I had a great friendship but that you didn't think of me that way…obviously I managed to convince him otherwise, though not without some difficulty."

"Oh my God…"

Clark rose up from his seat as she spoke and got down on one knee beside her, reaching into his jacket pocket for the ring. He presented it to her and watched her face nervously as she eyed him, then the ring, then back to him.

"YES!" she squealed with delight.

He laughed at her enthusiasm before adding, "Lois! I haven't even asked you the question yet!"

"Oh right, sorry." She managed to compose herself slightly as he cleared his throat to continue.

"Lois Lane, I've loved you since the moment I first saw you. I've never met a woman as beautiful as you, as intelligent as you, as tenacious as you; and we both know I've traveled the world over and seen my fair share," he chuckled nervously before carrying on. "There are a lot of things about this life and this world that I don't know, but one thing is certain and that is that I want to live by your side, forever and always. You're my one, Lois, my one and only. I know I've wasted far too much time to ask you this, but will you marry me?"

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, kissing him hard and full on the lips.

"So is that still a yes?" he asked impishly many moments later.

She nodded, her eyes filled with tears, before he slipped the ring on her finger and closed in to kiss her again.


	66. Chapter 66

**A/N: **There's a little bit of sexual innuendo here in the beginning, but nothing explicit and DEFINITELY nothing worth skipping over. Now enjoy!!!

* * *

_**Metropolis,**_** May 18, 2008.** Lois unfurled herself the next morning and stretched out in bed like a cat after a long nap. As she pulled her left hand down she examined the ring on her finger—the ring _Clark_ had given her—and smiled at the prospect of spending the rest of her life with the only man she loved with her whole heart. 

"Good morning," he said as he strolled in the door in his boxers, carrying breakfast on a tray. He set it down on the night stand next to her and leaned in for a kiss.

"Good morning yourself, Handsome."

"How did you sleep last night?"

She eyed him coyly before replying, "We slept?"

Clark laughed as he walked back around the bed and sat alongside her on top of the sheets. "I think I may have gotten forty winks in there somewhere…" he nuzzled against her shoulder.

"Did you have to go out at all?" she asked, glancing towards the side chair where his suit lay neatly folded.

"Only twice. I had to help Border Patrol round up some terrorists trying to sneak into the country through Canada. They had enough C4 to…well, let's just say the explosion it would've caused would have made the crater from my second crash landing in Smallville look like a divot on a golf course. Then there was a stampede threatening an aboriginal village in South Africa, but I managed to divert the animals' intended path of travel and it all ended well. So all in all it was a relatively quiet night."

"Yep, you're right, just another quiet evening on planet Earth," she replied, thankful for the crises he was able to avert on a daily basis as the superhero casually reached over her lap and grabbed a piece of toast off the tray._ Magnificent and mundane…how on Earth does he do it?_ she pondered momentarily, watching him. They sat there and thoughtfully ate their breakfast for awhile before Lois attempted to speak again.

"You know, Clark, you said you half-lied to Perry the other day, and I know you feel badly about it considering you almost never lie, although lies of omission certainly count as lies…"

He disliked being reminded of his falsehoods, however minor when considered in the grand scheme of things, and he arched an eyebrow at her curiously before interjecting. "Is this going somewhere?"

"Right, I'm babbling, sorry. Anyhow, what I was trying to tell you is that you shouldn't feel too badly for telling Perry what you told him. I pretty much told Richard the same thing back in early April and I'm surprised he hadn't told his Uncle before now."

"I'm sorry, you did WHAT?!?"

"I told Richard that you were Jason's father when I first got back to Metropolis after leaving you in Smallville. I knew then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, with or without a ring, and I wanted you to be able to acknowledge Jason as your son. So when I got back Richard and I talked…we talked for a long time and let go of a lot of the hurt we'd been holding onto for the last year, and I asked him to give up his legal rights to Jason."

"Oh God how could you do that to him?! I mean, I know that biologically I have a claim to our son, but Richard was the man he called Daddy for all those years…Lois, I could never do that to him!" The pitch of his voice rose in uneasiness and she watched as his eyes darted back and forth to the window as if he were debating whether or not to fly off to his rival's apartment in Washington state and try to smooth the situation over.

She reached her hands up to his cheeks and made him face her. "Look at me, Clark. I didn't wander into that conversation blindly, nor did I go into it maliciously. I told Richard that I was wrong about Jason's paternity, that you and I had had the briefest of relationships before you left on your trip and that you were his natural father. _I also_ told him that in every way that mattered he had been our boy's father too for a time, and that Jason was lucky to have three people in his life who loved him as much as we did. I know I've told you this before but I want Richard to stay in Jason's life, albeit more in the capacity of an uncle than of a father, and I told him as much in April as well." Lois let go of the hold she had on him and sighed, slipping into the sarcastic tone she usually saved for around the office. "Besides, our son needs a cool uncle given the lack of brothers in our families; you know, one who flies a seaplane, and takes him camping up in New England, and…"

"You're sassing me, right? This is City girl sass?" he asked, chuckling. Lois giggled. Clark quickly grew sober once more before asking, "And Richard agreed to this willingly?"

"No I had to break his left arm to get him to sign the paperwork—of course he agreed to this willingly! He's a good man, and besides, what kind of girl do you take me for?"

"A wonderful one, that's what, and one who graciously agreed to marry me in spite of my many faults," he said, kissing her on the cheek before making his way to her mouth. He pulled back briefly, his hand lingering in her hair. "I can't believe you had this all planned out, even back then. So what's our next step?"

"Well when I go home I'll pull out the paperwork, you'll sign on the dotted line and we'll go to the courthouse and get it filed away. Quick, easy and painless. All I was doing was waiting for the right time to bring it up with you..."

"Mmmhmmmm…" he replied, studying the clarity in her hazel eyes and wondering if the indomitable Lois Lane would ever cease to amaze him. He also couldn't help prodding her a little with his own brand of humor. "So, you said you'd spend the rest of your life with me, ring or no ring, eh? Looks like I'll just have to take this back to the jeweler's then…"

She curled into the corner of the bed nearest the headboard and held her left hand just out of his reach. "Not on your life, Clark Jerome Kent, I am NOT giving this back!" He lunged at her eagerly and she laughed as they abandoned their breakfast on the nightstand and resumed their earlier activities.

* * *

_**Daily Planet,**_** May 19, 2008.** They were lucky that morning; the newly-engaged couple had the elevator to themselves and they rode up to the bullpen hand in hand. 

"So we're agreed that we're going to keep this to ourselves for a little while at least, right?" she asked anxiously, twirling the ring around on her finger. It pained her to have to hide it, but they both knew that their colleagues were like so many vampires when it came to gossip, and they didn't want the joy and newness of their arrangement sucked out like so much blood so early on.

"Yes, we're agreed, although I doubt I'll be able to keep my eyes off of you, and that in itself might be a dead giveaway. You look gorgeous today by the way, or have I already mentioned that?" He leaned over and pecked her on the cheek.

"Look at you! We haven't even set a date yet and you already look like you've just gotten back from your honeymoon!"

"I can't help it, Lois, every moment I get to spend with you makes me feel this way."

"Ok, enough with the cheese, Smallville, we're almost at our floor," she noted the pained look in his eyes as she hit him with her sarcasm. "I'm sorry. You know I love you too, don't you?"

Clark's blue eyes sparkled. "I know…" he was about to lean over for another stolen kiss when the bell rang and opened to the _Daily Planet's_ offices.

"I've got to get on that story…"

"…I'm going to go see if the Chief has any thoughts on that new angle I wanted to pursue…"

In their haste to get away from one another and not attract attention they ended up colliding with each other just inside the bullpen doors. "OooOOOOwwwwwfff!!!"

* * *

_**Daily Planet,**_** May 20, 2008.** Three whole days; that's how long she'd gotten to enjoy her engagement, three whole days. _Actually, it's really only two and a half if you think about it, considering he popped the question Saturday night and it's now mid- afternoon on Tuesday._ He kept her hand firmly in his as they sat in the cab to pick Jason up from school, Lois silently mulling over what had transpired just twenty minutes earlier.

* * *

It started with Rose, the gossip columnist, coming over to Lois' desk to borrow her tape dispenser around 10 in the morning. The light in the room caught the glimmer of the diamonds on the underside of Lois' hand as she passed the tape off and the other woman was instantly intrigued; but instead of pressing her co-worker for details she took the presence of the ring, as well as her own conjecture, and passed it off as truth to her friend Mary in Health. Mary, in-turn, embellished on Rose's information before telling Henry in Sports. Such is the nature of gossip that by the time Clark returned from helping the victims of a quick-striking tornado out in Oklahoma his ears were practically burning with tales of Lois' engagement to some mystery man; and his poor fiancée sat at her desk none the wiser. 

He refrained from telling her as long as he could, not wanting to spoil her happiness with such idle drivel and vainly hoping it would soon die down. The only other people who remained oblivious to all the talk were Perry and Jimmy, and that's because one sat in his office behind closed doors while the other was out on assignment. What struck Clark as funny was that no one, absolutely _no one_, suspected that he was the lucky man. Gil thought Lois was clandestinely engaged to Superman (_And he isn't too far off the mark there either, _Clark thought to himself), while Ashley alleged that it was 'that older Metropolis Policeman' that Lois had been secretly seeing for some months after the Task Force had dissolved. Both Myra and Irene, the administrative assistants who directed phone traffic for the floor, remained steadfast in their belief that Lois had taken up with Richard all over again.

The news came out around lunchtime. Lois and Clark had gone to meet Jimmy at Wong's Chinese Food around the corner from the _Planet_ and Clark admitted to her all that he'd heard. She was furious, to say the least, and her anger only mounted with each bite she took of her veggie spring roll; she finally threw the half-eaten treat down on her plate before turning to Clark and asking crossly, "And what business is it of theirs that I'm engaged? Why do they think they have the right to disseminate information about my personal life without checking the veracity of it first! They're supposed to be reporters for crying out loud!"

"That's why they call it gossip, Lois; it doesn't need to be true, it just needs to be juicy." He placed his hand surreptitiously on her knee under the table.

Jimmy looked up curiously from his egg drop soup. "You're engaged?" he asked dubiously.

"Yes," they unintentionally replied at the same time. The eyes of all three at the table went wide.

"Whoa, wait a minute. CK, are you…?" he looked to the man across the table first before turning to the woman, "And Lois…?"

The pair looked at one another and implicitly agreed to let Jimmy in on their news, with Clark holding up Lois' left hand as confirmation.

"Wow, that's incredible, congratulations you guys! When's the wedding?"

Now it was their turn to be confused. "You mean, you're not surprised?" Clark asked his friend hesitantly.

Jimmy cocked his head and gave him a curious look. "Well yeah, I mean, I am sort of surprised, but that's because I didn't think you had it in you to move so fast."

Lois chuckled. "I think what he's asking, Jimmy, are you surprised that we're engaged to one another?"

He let out a hearty laugh, clutching the napkin tucked into his shirt collar. "You two? No way! You guys make a great writing team, not to mention you're both friends, so I guess I always figured you'd get your act together someday. Like I said, I just didn't think you'd move this fast."

"Well at least we have one person in our corner," Clark said, looking over at Lois. She broke eye contact with him and looked across the table to Jimmy, who had resumed eating his soup.

"We might as well drop one more bombshell on you then." She took a deep breath. "Jason is Clark's son."

The spoon clattered to the floor in shock as Jimmy coughed on the lukewarm liquid. Clark got up and gently hit his friend on the back a few times. "Now that," the photographer spluttered, "I wasn't expecting."

* * *

Jimmy was sufficiently recovered by the time they were finished with their meal to head back up to the bullpen without giving anything away. But now that they were all made aware of it, Lois and Jimmy did catch snippets of the conjecture flying around the office. 

"You think it'll be a church ceremony, or something quick at City Hall?"

"I wonder if Superman will be in attendance…maybe he'll be a groomsman…"

"Stupid! He can't be a groomsman, he's the groom!"

"I wonder if she'll be so bold as to wear white down the aisle…"

"Perhaps she'll go for a beach-side service, that'd be nice, especially if she plans on having the wedding in June or July."

"**ENOUGH!**" Lois cried out around 2 o'clock, not able to take it any longer. The whole room stopped talking and stared at her, wisps of the chestnut hair she had pulled back flying in the breeze of the A/C while her nostrils flared, making her look like a raging bull. She stood up on her chair and addressed the room.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE!!!! You want to know the truth, I'll tell you the truth; YES I am engaged, it happened Saturday night, and I couldn't be happier! THERE, YOU SEE?!? YOU SEE?!?!" She twirled the ring around so that the diamonds were right-side up, the light reflecting off of them and drawing several whispered 'oohs' and 'ahhhs' from the women in the room. Clark stood unobtrusively off to one side of the room and stared at her with sympathetic blue eyes. He'd really hoped to spare her from all this.

"So, Lois, who's the lucky fella'?" Ralph yelled out jokingly from the other side of the room.

She replied without hesitation. "Clark Kent."

He thought he heard a pin drop in the second between hearing Lois utter his name and the rest of the room comprehending what she had said before the raucous laughter burst out of everyone's mouths.

"Yeah right, they're havin' a laugh."

"Good one, Kent! How much did you have to pay her to go along with you?"

"You're just too embarrassed to tell us you're back with Richard, is that it, Lois?"

"Farm Boy? You're marrying Farm Boy?" Rose called out incredulously from her chair.

"Hey! He's _**my**_ Farm Boy and only _**I**_ get to call him that you over-rated, over-sexed, un-talented hack who calls herself a reporter! You guys don't get it, Clark Kent is a good man! He's loving and supportive and stronger than any of you could ever imagine, not to mention…" Clark walked up behind her, having more bearing and presence than anyone on the floor had ever seen him possess, and he placed a hand gently on the small of her back. He loved her for this, loved her for standing up for him so vociferously, but he didn't need it. Clark needed her and he had her, had her love unconditionally, and that was enough. She turned and looked down at him with her sad hazel eyes and climbed off the chair, burying her head in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

"They don't understand, they just don't understand…" She sounded as though she were on the verge of sobbing.

"I know they don't, but that's ok, because they don't matter," he whispered soothingly to her in his normal tone of voice as he brushed the flyaway hairs off her face. The people around them watched in amazement as their resident goof-ball turned into a suave and debonair man right before their very eyes. Clark ignored the fifty-six people blatantly staring at them as he leaned over, and placing his thumb and forefinger on her chin, brought her head up so he could plant a loving kiss on her forehead. She smiled a tight smile at the touch while still visibly upset with those milling around; unbeknownst to them both Jimmy captured the tender moment on film. Clark spoke again. "Why don't you get your things and we'll go pick up Jason from school together. You and I can finish our work from _home_."

Lois only nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and allowed him to guide her out of the bullpen and into a waiting elevator.

The people stared at where the duo had stood for a full ten minutes before returning to some semblance of normalcy, murmuring about how badly they felt and how they didn't know what was going on right under their very noses. A few had the audacity to proclaim that Clark couldn't really be the man Lois intended to marry, before they were unceremoniously shut up by some of their more remorseful colleagues.

The subdued couple returned to work the following day hand in hand to find a bouquet of flowers and a note of apology waiting for them on Lois' desk.


	67. Chapter 67

_**Metropolis,**_** June 27, 2008.** Clark was glad that Perry had offered to host the bachelor party at his place, or he would never have been able to breathe easily in his own home ever again; as it was, he doubted he'd ever be able to wear the same clothes again, his nose was so hyper-sensitive to the cloud of cigar smoke hovering over all their heads. Jimmy, the Best Man, had originally tried to plan a night of strip clubs and bar-hopping for Clark's final night of 'freedom' but the groom quickly quashed the idea, instead opting for a night of poker, beer and stogies, with friends.

Perry, Jimmy, Ben Hubbard and David Crowe made up the motley crew gathered around the green felt table that evening, General Lane having declined the invitation. They'd been playing for quite some time and Clark's fortunes had risen and fallen (mostly fallen) as the hours passed. He only used his powers once, utilizing his x-ray vision when he heard Ben's heart rate spike alarmingly high; he thought the older man was on the verge of having a heart attack when it turned out he was trying to bluff Perry into folding before a very large pot. The man won and the Editor-in-Chief of the _Daily Planet_ could not believe he'd been out-played by a "Smallvillian" .

The groom also had a hard time keeping his head in the game as his mind dwelt excitedly on his impending nuptials. Clark had left all the wedding plans up to Lois, except for when she'd specifically asked for his input, and he only asked for three things in return: that it be a church service, that she wear white, and that they stay out of each other's sight in the twenty-four hours leading up to the ceremony. The first condition he managed to finagle a promise out of her after much debate, the second one she readily agreed to, and the third she positively giggled at.

"I think you'll find, Mr. Kent, that your final decree will be the cause of your own undoing," she said laughingly as they watched Jason run around on the hills near the Danube in Austria. Clark had flown his family out there for a long overdue afternoon picnic; he'd also done it to get away, for a short while at least, from the frenetic planning of their wedding.

"What, you think I won't be able to stay away?" he asked slyly.

"No I don't."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself there, Little Lady. Care to tell me why?"

She leaned over and stroked his face, kissing him on the forehead. "Because, my Dear, _I_ don't have _superpowers_."

Clark feigned a look of shock. "You think that I won't be able to hold my abilities in check for twenty-four hours with regards to you?"

Lois shook her head vigorously, her chestnut locks flying. "Nope."

"You really are beautiful when you're being incorrigible, you know that?"

"Must be why you think I'm pretty 24/7!"

He rolled over onto his back and laughed so hard she thought the rumbling from his chest might cause an earthquake. "And modest too! I give you Lois Lane everybody!"

"So, you think you can stay away for a whole day? No x-ray vision or super-hearing or anything?" she asked, placing a hand on his chest.

"Yes I do."

"And what will you give me if you fail?"

"Ahh, but I'm Superman, I never fail," he responded, slipping into his deeper voice. She raised her eyebrows at him and waited. "I'll give you this," he said, moving to her side and kissing her intensely while Jason was momentarily distracted.

"Looks like I'll have to wait until our wedding night to collect on that bet, because that kiss is too indecent for a church ceremony…" The statement made him blush profusely.

He sat at the table staring off now, reflecting on that afternoon and allowing the crimson to rise once again to his cheeks.

"Stay or fold, CK?" Jimmy called out, breaking him out of his reverie.

Clark shook his head and took a look at his cards. "I'll uh…I'll fold." He put the cards back on the table.

"So Son, are you nervous?" Ben asked from his seat on Clark's right.

"Nope," he replied confidently.

David chimed in. "Not even a little bit?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Well that's a first," Ben said, looking down at his cards and pondering how much to throw into the jackpot in the center. He tossed two red chips in before returning to the conversation.

The groom-to-be looked curiously at the older man. "How do you mean?"

"Heck Clark, I was so nervous and shaky when I married Janey I thought I'd just shimmy right off the altar!"

"Yeah," David said in agreement. "The day I married Marilyn I couldn't stop sweating. The minister actually turned to me and said, 'And now you may wipe your face before kissing the bride', it was that bad."

"No! He didn't!" Jimmy cried out interestedly from his side of the table.

"Yep he did. I thought Marilyn would kill me for ruining the moment but she just laughed it off and kissed me anyway. That's when I knew how lucky a man I was." He got a faraway look of his own just then, obviously recalling tender moments with his wife that he didn't dare repeat in front of his father-in-law.

"I came close, once." Perry muttered as he chomped on his cigar. "Her name was Myra. Beautiful girl. We'd even set a date."

Jimmy turned to face him. "So what happened, Chief?"

He let out a sigh. "She realized that as much as I loved her, I loved the paper more, and she didn't want to compete. We broke it off amicably enough I guess you could say…I threw myself deeper into the paper, Myra met and married an investment banker and had three kids. She passed away seven years after I made Editor…" his voice trailed off.

Clark looked over and noted the disheartened look on Jimmy's face at the news of his mentor's sad past. He coughed. "I'm sorry, Perry, I truly am."

"Ah, well, it was a long time ago." Ben pat the other man on the back as Jimmy, Clark and David looked on sympathetically. Another round of beers and another hand was played before Clark broke the silence.

"So, what's the pot up to now, Jimmy?"

The young photographer looked at the center of the table and counted the chips. "Uh, looks like $65."

The groom-to-be grinned. "No, not that pot, the _other _pot." Now all eyes were on the two men as Jimmy nearly choked on his beer.

"What's going on?"

"What other pot?"

"You must have had too much to drink there, Kent, there's only the one right in front of you."

Clark shook his head no and a shy smile graced his lips. "Jimmy knows what I'm talking about."

The young man's cheeks flushed crimson. "Th-there's a p-pool at work, Chief…they're playing the odds about whether…" he looked up at Clark with shameful eyes before continuing, "…about whether or not they'll actually get hitched tomorrow."

"WHAT?!" Perry bellowed, slamming a fist on the table and almost upsetting the drinks. "In MY bullpen! The nerve of those people, I swear they're more incompetent than those kids Met. U. sends me! Who started it?! I want to know…"

"Let it go, Chief, it's alright. Lois and I actually find it kind of funny."

Jimmy gulped. "You mean, she knows too?"

Clark grinned mischievously. "You'd be surprised at how good my hearing is. So, what's the pot up to?"

The photographer shot a look at his Editor and the other guests assembled before whispering almost inaudibly, "The winner gets $500 if you two make it through the whole ceremony."

Ben and David let out a whistle at the astonishing figure while Perry's face grew red in anger as he muttered, "Damn fools…"

"And who bet in favor of us making it?" Clark asked impishly. He already knew the answer but was having too much fun to let the issue drop now.

"Uh, er… well…me?" Jimmy replied, hunching his shoulders like a turtle trying to stick it's head back in it's shell. The other three men turned in shock to face him.

"No!"

"Really?"

"Everyone else bet against them?"

Jimmy perked up then, glad to realize he wasn't the only one sure of his friends' chances of marital bliss. "Pretty much."

"Well won't they have egg on their faces by tomorrow afternoon? Congratulations, Jimmy," Clark said, raising his beer in a toast. "You owe me and Lois lunch when we get back from our honeymoon."

"Deal!"

* * *

He heard a shout, a very brief but loud shout. It was getting close to midnight and the other guys were bracing themselves for a few more hands of chance before calling it a night. Clark had to investigate. 

"Excuse me guys, nature calls," he said, getting up from the table. They muttered an acknowledgment without averting their gaze from their cards. Clark hurried into the bathroom and spun into the suit, flying out the window before the other men had finished deciding whether to stay or fold.

* * *

Lois, Lana, Marilyn, Chloe and Lois' sister Lucy were just returning to Lois' hotel room after a night of bar-hopping. Nothing too indecent, Lois made sure of that, but they managed to have a good time drinking and dancing the night away anyway. They'd broken the party up into two parts, going out for afternoon tea with Martha and Ella earlier that day, before heading out on the town that night. The older women were happy with the arrangement, preferring instead to spend the evening watching their grandson and getting to know one another better while preparing for the ceremony the following day. The General chose to spend the evening on Base but would be joining them all for the service the next day. 

The five women collapsed in a giggling heap on the bed in the room before Chloe got up to open the windows for some fresh air and to get them all some water. _It won't do to have the bride hungover on her wedding day…_she thought as she filled the glasses at the bathroom sink and caught the laughter coming from the other room. The other women had pulled out their last minute gifts of lingerie for the bride-to-be and she was opening them up to reveal the barely-there apparel.

Lois' cheeks were crimson. "Oh my God, _you guys_! He's practically straight off the farm, this is going to kill him!"

"I highly doubt that," Chloe said knowingly, passing Lois a glass of water before attending to the other three. She then walked over to the closet and brought out a fairly large white box with a peach colored bow on it. "By the way, this is from me." The women gathered around as Chloe passed the box to the bride-to-be; unfortunately it was heavier than it looked and slipped out of Lois' grasp before crashing down on Lucy's toe.

"OWWW!!!! Oh geez I think it's broken, OWWW!!!!" the woman screamed.

"Oh Luce, I am so sorry, oh God…um, do we have any ice or anything?" Lois asked distractedly, forgetting the gift and bending down to examine her sister's foot as the women slipped it out of her shoe. Lana went over to the mini-fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of $15 water to use in lieu of ice while Marilyn tried to get her to stop hopping around and sit in a chair.

"OW OW OW OW OW!!!!"

"You are being the biggest baby, now let me just…" Lois started to say before she was interrupted.

"Is everything alright in here?" a deep voice intoned from the opposite side of the room. All five pairs of eyes swiveled to see a man in blue, red and yellow hovering outside the window.

"Superman?" Lucy, Marilyn and Lana asked, star struck. Chloe just smiled at her friend while Lois gave him her best 'come-hither' stare. The latter made him gulp audibly.

"I uh…I heard someone scream and I came to investigate."

Lucy spoke up first. "My stupid sister, the bride-to-be, dropped a big heavy box on my toe," she pointed down to her one bare foot in explanation. He did a quick x-ray scan of it.

"Nothing appears to be broken." The three ladies gasped together, mightily impressed. Clark turned towards Lois and Chloe who stood near the bed. "Congratulations on your upcoming marriage, Miss Lane."

She blushed. "Yes, I'm a very lucky woman. And the groom-to-be is a very lucky man." He unintentionally soared a little higher, so that his head was no longer in view. Clark came back down immediately.

"I'm sure he's well aware. And what time is the ceremony?"

"At 1 PM, tomorrow. Will you be sure to tell him not to be late if you happen to see him?" she asked, winking. Chloe stifled a giggle.

He nodded solemnly. "I will. Have a good evening, Ladies…"

"Excuse me, Superman?" Lucy spoke up, finally finding her voice.

"Yes?"

"Are you _sure_ there aren't any more like you at home?"

The Man of Steel coughed as if he had a bug caught in his throat before shaking his head no and flying off into the night sky. Lois and Chloe could not stop the uproarious laughter that burst from their mouths, and they fell back on the bed giggling uncontrollably.

Marilyn, Lana and Lucy looked at them confused. "What? What's so funny?"

Fifteen minutes later, when things had finally quieted down and Lois caught her breath, she whispered. "Told you you wouldn't last."

And from his seat in Perry's apartment Clark Kent just shook his head and blushed.


	68. Chapter 68

_**Metropolis, **_**June 28, 2008. **"Mom, can you help me get this on straight? I can't seem to…" he fiddled with his tie once more before Martha stretched her weathered hands up her son's chest to aid him. Jason sat on a chair nearby in his little tuxedo, legs swinging, with the pillow for his parents' wedding rings resting on his lap. Jimmy was in the church proper, making sure everyone was seated and ready to go.

"There, you're all set. You look very handsome," Martha said as she stepped back and examined his image.

"Are you sure?" Clark asked, running a hand nervously through his hair.

Her eyes misted over as she watched him fidget about on his wedding day. "I'm sure."

He looked in the mirror at her and saw the joy and sadness sweep over her face. Wordlessly he turned around and embraced her as she stifled a sob. "I'm so happy for you, Son; I only wish your Father had lived to see this."

"I know, Mom, I do too. But he is here, in spirit." She nodded and broke away, trying to dry her eyes without ruining her make-up. A look of concentration swept over her son's face.

"Clark Kent, you are not to go peeking at your bride-to-be!" she admonished him. He looked over at her guiltily.

"I was, uh, t-that is, I…"

Martha bent down to where Jason was sitting. "I think you better go check on your Mother, Dear. I'll be right behind you," she whispered, gently ushering him out of the room. The little boy trotted across the vestibule, pillow trailing at his side before tentatively knocking at the door where his Mother, Grandma Ella, Aunt Lucy and their friends were getting ready.

"Who is it?" Ella called out from behind the oak door.

"It's me!" he piped up in his childish voice. The door swung open just enough to let him pass, then quickly closed shut.

Unlike the relative emptiness and quiet of his Father's room, his Mother's was a bustle of activity, and he quickly hid in the corner so as not to get trampled on.

Lois stood before a long mirror, wearing an off-white halter dress. The bodice was fitted while the skirt flared out before her.

"You look _beautiful_, Mommy," Jason said in awe. She reminded him of a princess from one of his fairy tales.

Lois turned to him, positively beaming. "Thank you, Baby!" She bent down and opened her arms wide for a hug which he quickly ran into.

"Careful, Honey, your make-up!" Ella cried as Jason nuzzled against his mother. Lois kissed the top of her son's unruly head, not paying any heed to her mother's warning. She looked down at the empty pillow in his hand.

"Jason, where are the rings?"

"Mr. Jimmy has 'em. Dad told him not to give 'em to me until _just_ before the wedding. He's afraid I'll lose 'em, but I told him I'd be_ very_ careful…"

"I know you would, Sweetie, I know," she said, her voice trailing off. "And how is your Father…?"

"He's fine, Dear," Martha said as she slipped into the room. "A little nervous, as all men tend to be, but fine."

"Good, good." Lois knew he wouldn't dare miss the ceremony, but she was apprehensive about his ducking out to rescue someone in the five minutes beforehand. If people were with him he wouldn't have a chance to escape. "Who's with him now?"

"Oh you know, the boys."

Ella clapped her hands, calling the room to attention in a way only a General's wife could. All the women in the room turned to face her.

"Ok ladies, we have five minutes before the service. Now Lois, do you have your something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue?"

Her hand immediately fluttered up to the large fake white flower in her perfectly coiffed up-do. It's center was painted robin's egg blue, matching the bridesmaids' attire. "I have the something blue, but I'm afraid I'm 1 for 4 today." She looked anxiously at those gathered around her. From behind her Martha reached her hands around her throat, placing a diamond tear-drop pendant necklace around her neck.

"This is old and borrowed; all the Kent women have worn it on their wedding days, and now you'll wear it on yours," she said as she clasped the chain at the back of her neck. Lois gasped.

"Oh it's beautiful! Martha, thank you!" Tears threatened to well up in her eyes as she gave her future mother-in-law a hug. Both women were overcome with emotion and Ella knew she had to keep it in check or they'd never make it out and down the aisle on time.

"Ahem!" she coughed, causing Lois and Martha to jump back to attention. "That just leaves us with the something new…"

"I have something new," Jason said quietly.

Chloe, the Maid of Honor, was the only one who heard him. "You do? What is it, Jason?"

He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a shiny new penny. "It's _brand_ new, see? 2008!" he exclaimed triumphantly, pointing at the shiny copper-coated zinc coin. She handed it over to the bride who promptly put it in her heel.

"There, we're all set."

"Ready to go in there?" The General barked out from the other side of the door.

"Sure are!" Lois called back, opening the door as she spoke. Her father stood before her in full dress uniform with a stern look on his face.

"You sure you want to do this, Lo? I mean, the guy's no Richard…" he said, ignoring the fact that Jason stood just behind his mother. The little boy crinkled his forehead, not comprehending what his Papa meant by the statement. Lois turned around.

"Jason, you better go find Mr. Jimmy and get those rings," she said happily, pushing him toward the door to the inner sanctum of the church. She could hear him tear down the aisle to where the Groom and the Best Man were standing, waiting for her. Turning back to her father, Lois' face grew suddenly darker. "Yes I **am** sure, and if you insist on questioning me about my decision up until I get to the end of that aisle than so help me I will go march down there by myself!" her hand holding the bouquet stretched menacingly out toward the door, as she planned on making good on her threat.

Sam Lane still had many misgivings about his daughter's impending marriage but he kept his mouth wisely shut, not wanting to mar Lois' day. One of the church attendants ushered them into position as the music inside began to play. She linked her arm in his as they lined up behind the rest of the wedding party, ready to enter the church.

Clark had refrained from peeking at her all day, but he couldn't help tuning in to her heartbeat. Aside from the confrontation with her father just now in the hallway it had remained calm and steady all day long. His, he knew, was beating so erratically he thought the organ had been replaced by a Mexican jumping bean; it leapt from his chest cavity to the pit of his stomach and back again frequently, sometimes stopping altogether at the realization that Lois was _really_ marrying him.

When the door finally opened to admit her and her father, Clark held his breath. Lois was radiant, absolutely beaming, and he couldn't recall ever seeing her look so stunning as she did just then on the General's arm. The guests rose as the wedding march played and Lois and her father strode triumphantly down the aisle. The bride chanced a look around her and caught sight of Al Henrickson standing in the middle of the church on her left, next to Clarissa Woodrow. Lois almost had to do a double take, as she'd never seen either of them outside of work and she thought that two strangers had crashed her wedding. Clarissa wore a deep purple strapless dress while Al was clean shaven and in a nice charcoal gray suit. They nodded at Lois and she smiled back, glad that they were able to share this day with her and Clark after all the four of them had been through together. Richard had been invited to attend too, and respectively declined, choosing to send along a tasteful gift instead.

There weren't very many guests, nor was the church very large, and before Clark knew it Lois was standing by his side before the altar. He was a bundle of nerves, and until Lois, who was holding onto his hand, pulled him down, he didn't even realize he was hovering incrementally.

Most of what the minister said was forgotten by Clark as soon as he'd heard it, except for the important moment:

"And do you, Clark Jerome Kent, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

Without a moment's hesitation he replied, "I do." Clark watched as tears welled up in his bride's eyes. _We've already been through so much, Lois, and I already promised you I'd never leave you again, _he thought to himself as he slipped the ring on her finger. _And now you know I never will_.

"And do you, Lois Joanne Lane, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she replied as she bent down to pick the ring up off the pillow that Jason held up to her. _For better or for worse, Clark Kent, _she said to herself, slipping the ring on his finger. _We're in this life together now, for better or for worse_. _Always remember that_.

The minister clasped his hands together in front of him. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" Clark didn't need the invitation and was already eagerly kissing his wife before the man of the cloth had finished speaking. The guests chuckled at his impetuosity and clapped as the happy couple made their way down the aisle to the waiting limousine.

"Oh my gosh we're married!" Lois exclaimed all in one breath as soon as the door was closed. She held her left hand out to inspect the white gold band now placed beside her engagement ring, not believing it was real. Clark didn't bother mincing words but kissed her again with the same ferocity he'd shown that afternoon in Austria. "I knew you'd lose the bet," she purred when their mouths finally parted.

"I'll let you win any and all bets for the rest of our days if it'll make you happy, Mrs. Kent."

"Lane-Kent, Mrs. Lane-Kent," she corrected him.

"Right, Lane-Kent, sorry," he repeated, looking over at her and smiling. "Did you see the inscription inside the ring?"

"I did but I had no idea what it meant. Is it Kryptonian?"

He nodded eagerly, taking his own ring off to show her. "It says, 'All my love, all my life', and I mean every word."

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "As do I," she said, leaning in and kissing her new husband once more.

* * *

The reception was held at the Harris & Dougherty Country Club on the outskirts of the City and the newlyweds partied with the rest of their guests there until mid-evening. Jimmy, despite being invited in a non-professional capacity, still ran around with a camera about his neck; it was only at Clark's insistence that he looked up long enough from behind his lens to share a dance with the Maid of Honor, and it was clear to Lois and Clark after that first turn on the dance floor that their co-worker was smitten. As part of her gift to the couple, Chloe had fixed it through the computers so that they appeared to have two tickets on a nine o'clock flight out of Metropolis International; they were in fact going to stay at Clark's, now _their_ apartment, until check-in time at the Malaysian resort the following day. It was the last part of her gift to the newly-weds, one of which they were very appreciative. 

As the Bride and Groom prepared to leave to catch their honeymoon 'flight' they stopped to say good-bye to Jason.

"Now you have fun at Grandma's house," Clark said, tousling his son's hair before kissing him on the forehead. "And have fun playing with the Crowe kids out in Smallville. We'll be back in ten days, but you can call us if it's an emergency, ok?"

"I know, Dad," he said, smiling up at his father as he wrapped his arms around the man's neck. Clark lifted Jason up into a hug, loving the fact that they didn't have to hide their relationship from the world anymore, before turning him so he could face Lois.

"Be good, Baby," she said, kissing him on the cheek he proffered. "We love you."

He kissed her on her cheek. "I love you too." Clark put his son back down and delivered him into Martha's care.

"Bye everyone!" the happy couple cried out together as they were about to exit the room.

"Wait, your bouquet!" Marilyn cried out from the front of the crowd.

Lois bit her lip. "Oh right, uh, here it comes!" The knot of flowers flew out of her hand into the crowd and there was a quick scrambling among the younger women. Chloe poked her head up with the bouquet in hand, and was startled to find herself it's recipient.

"Now you have to get married," Jimmy said, sidling up next to her. He gave her a shy smile. She shot her friend a look of alarm as the relative stranger beside her hinted at marriage, and Clark just grinned back at her on his way out the door with Lois leading the way.

They dismissed the limousine at the front door of their building and Clark carried her across the threshold and into the elevator with ease.

"I would've flown you on up, only we're a little more conspicuous dressed like this than we normally would be," he said, eying his lovely bride as they rode up in the elevator. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"I know."

Once the doors opened on the top floor Clark super-sped down the hallway and unlocked the front door.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Lane-Kent," he called out. She giggled as he crossed over this second threshold with her still in his arms, and he kicked the door closed behind him.

Superman didn't put in a single appearance that night or the next morning.


	69. Chapter 69

_**Four Seasons Resort, Malaysia**_**, July 2, 2008.** It was the first time they'd emerged from their honeymoon suite for any extended period of time since checking in, and the newlyweds were now basking in the glow of the sun while sitting on lounge chairs by the beach. Lois eyed her husband sitting beside her. He was wearing nothing but his swimming shorts and a pair of sunglasses, and it was the least amount of clothing she'd ever seen him wear in public; normally he was bundled up to the hilt because of the blue spandex suit but that was left behind in the hotel room, locked away in their suitcase for emergency purposes only. Clark had only had to put it on four times since they'd arrived, and each time he returned Lois made sure to retrieve the wedding band he'd secreted away in a compartment on his belt while simultaneously pulling the suit off of him so they could resume enjoying their time together.

"Do you need more sun block?" he innocently asked his wife, raising the sunglasses off his face to get a better look at her.

"No, I think I'm roasting nicely."

"You know, all it takes are a couple days of high exposure to the sun's UV rays to cause skin cancer…"

She sat up in her lounge chair and looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh really?" Then, whispering, she added, "Maybe we should go back to the room then…" Lois was about to continue when a sight down the beach caught her eye.

A tall, skinny, forty-something year old man strolled over to the bar along the waterfront, a bikini-clad girl on each arm. He had on red swimming trunks and a light blue button up shirt that remained open, fluttering in the slight breeze while exposing his tan chest. One of the girls whispered in his ear and he threw his head back in laughter, oblivious to the woman sitting fifty yards away boring holes into him with her eyes.

Clark caught the look on her face and joked, "Not even married a week and already you have a roving eye…"

"Chase," was all she could mutter through her clenched teeth. The contempt was clear in her voice and Clark turned to see the man who was in her line of sight.

Sure enough, Special Agent Spencer Chase stood at the bar, sharing a daiquiri with two young ladies and laughing at his own wit. The rich deep color of his tan suggested that he'd been hiding out here for sometime. Lois watched as her husband's fist clenched at his side. The pair of them sat there, the anger seething out of their very beings, weighing over the options available to them in their heads. Clark stood up decisively, making an imposing shadow in the sand.

"Where are you going?" Lois hissed from behind him.

"I'm going to take care of this. That man deserves to be brought to justice."

"He deserves a lot more than that, let me at him first!" Her nostrils flared in anger as she nearly dove out of her chair.

He turned to face her, a steely look replacing the teasing warmth that was there just a moment before. "No, Lois, no more violence, please. Just…" He stared off as he contemplated his words carefully. "Just sit tight and let me take care of this, I'll be back in a few minutes." Clark took off at a jog down the opposite end of the beach, not wanting to arouse anyone's suspicions before doubling back to retrieve the suit.

She sat there mulling over her husband's words, '_No, Lois, no more violence'—well I may not be able to slug him as badly as I want to, but I can make sure he stays put and squirms. _She got up and strode over to the bar, just as his two beach beauties left to go frolic in the waves.

"Chase? Spencer Chase?" she asked with a sickening smile as she sidled up to the bar. His eyes just barely widened in surprise as he recognized her.

"No, I'm afraid you're mistaken, I'm Alex Williamson," he replied, extending a hand in greeting. Every ounce of sense in her recoiled at her proximity to him, but she forced herself to stay still.

"Silly me, I'm so sorry! I guess you just _look_ like someone I knew from back home." Lois asked the bartender for a glass of water and took a sip of her drink before continuing. "Actually, it's rather lucky for you that you _aren't_ Spencer Chase. Did you know he's a wanted man?"

"Oh, and what for?" he asked with a careful measure of curiosity.

_That's it, just play right into my hands you rotten little…_"You mean you don't know? It was all over the news." She leaned over and whispered conspiratorially at him. "He helped those men who imprisoned Superman!" She paused and, leaned back into her stool, taking another sip of her drink. "Why, I almost called the local police when I saw you."

He reached out his arm and had an icy cold grip on her right wrist. "Listen, Miss Lane…" Just then the sound of a cape fluttering behind him caught his attention.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Special Agent," a deep voice called out from over his left shoulder. Chase's eyes widened at the sound, then narrowed in disdain. He spun around quickly, grabbing the lime-cutting knife left by the bartender, and held it to Lois' throat. Clark's teeth ground in his head and the muscles in his crossed arms spasmed at the sight of his wife's predicament.

"Good thing I called Superman instead," she piped up, disregarding the cold steel blade being pressed against her throat.

Chase's face was red with rage. "SHUT UP!"

"I wouldn't threaten her if I were you," Clark said in a cold and calculating tone.

The disgraced man sneered. "And why not? She's my ticket out of here!" As the man spoke, Superman sent a concentrated amount of heat vision to the blade. Lois saw the red glow in her husband's eyes and strained her neck back as far away from the blade as she could so she wouldn't get burned. The knife soon grew too hot and Chase dropped it to the ground, cursing. Lois stepped on his foot and elbowed him in the gut for good measure, sending him doubling over as Superman sped behind him and grabbed his arms roughly.

"The only ticket you have is to a jail cell in Metropolis, where you belong." He gave Lois a look that said '_We'll talk about this later_' before taking off into the sky with his charge squirming in tow.

Everyone who had been milling around while the exchange took place looked collectively up into the clouds as the caped hero soared off; all except for Lois, who re-seated herself at the bar and sipped from her water. Once the shock wore off of the other people they gathered around her, asking if she was alright and if there was anything or anyone they could get for her. Ten minutes later, as if on cue, Clark came running back up the beach towards the commotion.

"Lois, Honey, are you alright? What happened?" he asked in his high-pitched voice.

"A man, he threatened her with a knife!" one of the bystanders informed him as Lois gave Clark a look. "They were just talking and then Superman showed up and the guy grabbed it off the bar—he held it to her throat and everything! But Superman was able to stop him and he took him away about ten minutes ago."

"Oh my gosh, Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I wasn't here! Are you sure you're alright? Let's go back to the room now…" he took Lois' arm and led her away from the throng of people that was slowly thinning out and back into their suite. As soon as the door was locked he stood there and ran his fingers through his hair exasperatedly. Lois sauntered over to the bed and sat down on it's edge, staring over at her husband.

"So, did you '_accidentally_' drop that abominable man somewhere over the Pacific Ocean?" she asked casually.

"LOIS, NO! I would never do that and you know that! I turned him over to the proper authorities back in Metropolis, just as I had always intended should we ever catch up with him." He remained silent a moment, secretly fuming. "But how could you do that?"

"Do what?"

"I asked you specifically not to get involved. I had the situation under control."

"No, Clark, you asked me specifically not to visit any violence upon his miserable little head, and I didn't until he pulled the knife on me."

"How can you be so cavalier about this? That man threatened your life!"

"And you stopped him, end of story," she replied calmly.

"No, that's not the end of the story. Why won't you ever listen to me? I'm just trying to protect you."

"And I'm trying to protect you."

"How, by getting yourself killed?!" It was the closest to hysterical that Lois had seen him since he woke up out of his coma back in Smallville.

"No, by making sure he didn't wander off before you had a chance to arrive."

Clark didn't know what to make of that. On the one hand his wife had a point in wanting to detain the traitorous agent. On the other hand, Chase didn't look like he was planning on heading anywhere, and she deliberately put herself in harm's way by meddling with him.

Lois furthered her point while he was thinking. "I mean, what if he had a Kryptonite weapon on him for crying out loud!" she shouted, jumping up off the bed and gesturing madly with her hands. "You were just about to dash in there blindly, and that's the kind of action that got you kidnapped the last time!" Her hand reached out over her mouth as she uttered that final statement, the regret instantaneous.

But her remorse didn't stop the biting sting of her words from emanating throughout the whole room. Clark stood there flabbergasted.

"I did it to save Jason," he said in a monotone tone of voice.

"Yes, Clark, I know, I'm so sorry, I…"

"I did it to save Jason."

An ominous silence filled the vacant space between them as she stared at him pleadingly, asking for forgiveness without physically forming the words. He seemed to look through her, beyond her, and while she knew it was entirely possible that he was, the hint of tears in his blue eyes told her he wasn't.

"I'm going out," he informed her, turning to unlock the door.

"B-but, but where?"

"Just…out." His shoulders slumped as he spoke and he sighed, turning the door handle and shutting it noiselessly behind him.

Once she was alone in the room Lois flung herself back onto the bed and cried heavily into her pillow before falling asleep. An hour and a half later he still hadn't returned.

* * *

It was evening before she felt someone crawl into bed next to her. Slowly, she reached out a hand and turned on the light on the nightstand. "Are you just getting in? What time is it?"

"It's late, go back to sleep, we'll talk about it in the morning," he whispered, punching his pillow and laying his head down.

"No, I don't want us to go to bed angry." He glared up at her as she relaxed her tone and added, "Please." Clark repositioned himself so that they were now both sitting with their backs against the headboard.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that…I didn't even mean it and I don't know why I said…"

He interjected. "But a part of you had to have meant it or else you never would have thought it let alone say it! What about that talk we had back on the farm? The one where you told me I did the right thing last September? Were you just saying that to placate me? Do you really think that I rush into situations blindly all the time, that I don't weigh the consequences or the risks?"

"No, I don't think that, I just said it because I wanted to be right about what I did today when deep down I knew I was wrong. All I was thinking of when I saw him was how that man hurt you, Clark. He may not have hurt you physically but he helped keep you prisoner in the hands of the people who did and I wanted to kill him for it. And yes, I interfered when you asked me not to, and there was a small part of me that did it just to delay him, but a larger part of me wanted to watch him suffer for what he did to you!"

Clark's face softened as he saw how in earnest she was to save him from the evils he faced down everyday in the world. "Lois, I believe you when you tell me you didn't mean what you said but I'm not going to lie; it hurt, it hurt a lot." He paused and sighed as if he'd just poured fresh salt into the wound. Lois started silently sobbing. "But we should have talked about it instead of me just walking away like that and I'm sorry. We're both still new at this marriage thing and all today means is that we'll have to try harder in the future.

"And as far as Agent Chase goes; Sweetheart, I appreciate the help, really I do, but I've been taking care of myself for a long time and when I do need back-up…well, let's just say that I'm not as stubborn as you and I know how to ask for it. Also…oh please, please look at me," he pleaded, cupping her tear-streaked face in his hands as she tried to look away from him. "I need you. Jason needs you. We _both_ need you. So you have got to stop _purposefully_ throwing yourself into dangerous situations, or else there may come a time when I can't get you out and we'll both be lost without you."

"I know, I'm sorry," she said through her sobs.

Clark pulled her close to his chest. "I'm sorry too."

They fell asleep that night curled into one another, their first fight as a married couple over and done with while the lessons learned from it were unlikely to be soon forgotten.


	70. Chapter 70

_**Metropolis**_**, August 13, 2008. **"Good afternoon, _Daily Planet_, Lois Lane-Kent here," she said confidently into the phone. Even now, a month and a half after her wedding, she couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face every time she uttered her new last name. That particular smile was on the verge of undermining her authority in the journalistic community, as her peers and interview subjects alike began to think that marriage had made her soft; that is, until she bit off Senator Balme's head after he gave her the brush off over his questionable campaign finances. There was no doubting after that incident that Mad Dog Lane was still there, only now she was better known as Mad Dog Lane-Kent. 

"Lois? Hi, it's Agent…" the woman's tone changed when she recalled who she was talking to, _Not getting involved with the victim's and their families be damned_, "…It's Clarissa. Do you and your husband have a moment? There's something I'd like to discuss with you both privately."

Lois looked across the aisle at Clark's desk only to find it empty; a quick glance at the TV screen alerted her to the fact that he was still in New York helping to put out a high-rise fire.

"Actually he's not here right now," she said as casually as she could. "Maybe we can call you back later? Or why don't you come over to the apartment tonight for dinner?"

The line started to break up as Clarissa coughed. "Ah, well, that would be a problem, as I'm, um, not in Metropolis at the moment."

"Oh? And where are you? Or am I not allowed to know?"

"No, actually, that's part of why I was calling you. I'm in Iowa."

"Iowa? What's Clarissa doing in Iowa?" Clark asked his wife as he sidled up beside her, re-adjusting his tie.

She held her hand over the receiver. "I don't know, she wanted to talk to the two of us about that. Everything ok in New York?"

He nodded. "Everyone got out safely and the firefighters have it pretty much under control. Nothing left for me to do there."

"Excuse me, Lois?" Clarissa's voice called out from the other end of the line.

"Right, sorry, Clark just walked in. Can I put you on hold for a minute so we can take the call together in the conference room?"

"Sure." She clicked the HOLD button and walked into the conference room with Clark hot on her heels. Lois picked up the receiver again as her husband pulled the blinds, but not before he caught Gil and Ralph talking over by the copier situated halfway across the noisy bullpen.

"Ten bucks says they're going in there for a quickie."

Gil scoffed. "Please! That's not even a real bet."

Clark shot them a glare that would have instilled fear in the heart of the coldest of men; the two gossiping reporters caught him watching them just then, and even though they knew he couldn't hear them, they gulped audibly. Satisfied, he closed the last of the blinds and went to stand behind his wife, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"What's up, Clarissa? Why are you in Iowa?" he asked into the speaker phone.

"Well we've made an interesting discovery here and I wanted you and Lois to be the first to know, in an unofficial capacity of course, it's just that it concerns…"

Lois cut her off. "Sorry, hang on a sec, Clark's listening to something."

He turned to his wife with a dark look on his face. "The bullpen just got really quiet; a news announcer on the TV says that authorities have discovered one of the bunkers where Superman was being held."

"Dammit!" Clarissa's voice cursed out of the speaker phone. "I'm sorry, I was trying to tell you before the news hit the airwaves."

Lois spoke up, as Clark sank somberly into the chair beside her. "So it's true then?"

"Yes, it's true. But what you won't hear on the news is what we found inside. There were two bodies down there; Finneran's we were able to ID off the internet footage from earlier this year, but the other one we're having a harder time with…"

"Where in Iowa are you?" he interjected suddenly. It was a tone Lois and Clarissa easily recognized; his terse speech reminded them of his early recovery on the farm when his temper was short and his powers in a state of flux. Lois instinctively reached out a hand to his forearm, bringing him back to the conference room and away from his terrible thoughts.

Clarissa coughed again. "Well, we uh…we found the bunker just outside of Ottumwa."

He turned to his wife and said, "Lois, I'm going to be late for dinner tonight," taking the glasses off his face and preparing to quit the room via the nearest window.

"Oh no you don't, you are NOT going out there, not now but ESPECIALLY not without me."

He stopped cold in his tracks. "What do you mean not without you?"

"If you're going to face your demons than I am going to face them with you," she informed him before adding in a whisper, "We're in this together, Clark Kent, for better or for worse we're in this together."

"Excuse me, guys? I don't think your coming out here right now is such a good idea anyway."

The young couple turned back to the phone, speaking as one. "And why is that?"

"Well first there's the press to consider. They're everywhere, not to mention that if you're coming with him, Lois…well, you're a married woman now; all they need is just one picture of you showing up in Superman's arms and the tabloids will all have a field day with the gossip. Second, there's still Kryptonite present on the premises and we can't guarantee Superman's safety."

"Do you have any suggestions?" Clark asked.

"Yes I do, but only if you have someone who can watch Jason for a little while for you tonight…"

* * *

_**Outside Ottumwa, IA,**_** August 13, 2008.** Superman followed Special Agent Woodrow's instructions to the letter, and he and Lois were escorted onto the property and around the waiting press in an FBI squad car. The photographers snapped pictures of the mundane, capturing images of what appeared to be three FBI agents moving onto the not-so-vacant lot in a navy blue Chevrolet. The woman in the back seat had long blond hair that stood in stark contrast to her black pant suit and dark eyeglasses that she wore, even at night, while the man in the passenger seat sported the same glasses and had salt-and-pepper hair and a bit of a potbelly. Once the car was inside the gate the members of the press went back to milling around and speculating on what was going on down below. The trio moved out of the car and into the shack, standing inside the barren space before opening the second door that lead down into the bunker. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Clarissa asked of her companions.

Clark shook off the wig and pulled the pillow out from under his shirt and simply nodded to Clarissa in response. He hadn't spoken a word since they came within sight of the lot with its simple chain link fence and seemingly broken down shed. Lois reached a hand out and put it on his shoulder. "Clark?" He turned abruptly around to face her. "Clarissa asked if you were sure you wanted to do this; if not we can turn around right now and head home, it's perfectly alright."

He shook his head vigorously, his hair falling in front of his face. "No, I need to do this."

"Ok then," Clarissa said, opening the door and urging them to follow her. The three made their way down the steps slowly, as other FBI agents were making their way back up simultaneously, carrying bags of evidence with them. Clark watched and examined the file folders and odd trinkets covered in finger print dust as they went past him. The deeper they descended the more earthy the smell became, and he nervously adjusted the knot of his tie as he felt his throat begin to close.

He felt a little flush as they hit the landing and Clarissa guided them down the passageway to their right. Lois took her sunglasses off and looked around, wholly intimidated by her surroundings. She had only been enclosed by the cinder block walls of the bunker for a few minutes and already she wanted to race outside into the open night sky but her feet wouldn't carry her; they were cemented to the spot by the man who stood before her, the man whose own knees were quaking, albeit only slightly. Lois slipped her hand in his. "It's ok, Clark," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, his face half-hidden by the sunglasses that he refused to take off, but she knew that he was still with her and seeing everything.

Clark scanned the rooms as they passed with his x-ray vision. He saw the dormitory, the mess hall, the bathrooms—all the things he hadn't been privy to viewing during his imprisonment. Members of the FBI had descended upon the place now, but he could easily picture his captors here; playing cards, working out, doing Finneran and Luthor's bidding. They came to a stop at the end of the hallway in front of a large oak door which Clarissa gently pushed back.

All three pairs of eyes immediately went from the boxing ring in the middle of the room to the two dark rust colored stains on the floor situated roughly six feet apart. They'd moved the body of Nick Finneran several hours before, but the smell of decay still lingered in the air of the space that had once been his tomb. Clark's breath came in in ragged gasps and he pressed his back up against the wall as they shuffled on in. He'd come for absolution from the nightmare he'd survived, and yet here it was, playing out all over again in his mind's eye: all the merciless beatings, then the men pinning him to the floor, Luthor striding over with the tray, squirting a needle full of sedatives inches from his face and watching with glee as he lay writhing and sweating in a panic.

"I can't…I thought I could, but I can't…" Clark said as he turned suddenly, bolting for the exit so quickly that Clarissa thought if he hadn't found it he would've just made himself a new one. He was far far down the hall when one of the agents in the room spoke up.

"Couldn't stomach it, could he? Ah, well, it isn't so bad down here after awhile. I gotta hand it to Luthor, that guy sure knew how to build a bunker—this place is better fortified than Fort Knox and fancier than the Ritz. You can bet you're not going to see me toss my cookies like Big Boy down there over the sight of a little blood."

Lois' own blood boiled in her veins at the man's callous words. Without thinking, she tore off her wig and marched over to the man with the smart mouth, jabbing her finger in his chest. "That _BIG BOY_, as you so eloquently put it, is SUPERMAN! He came here today to try and get over what was done to him, to put the HELL he's been through behind him, and you joke as if it were nothing! NOTHING!!! Or do you not remember how badly he was TORTURED DOWN HERE?!?! So what if he can't stand the sight of that blood?! It's because it's HIS OWN DAMN BLOOD there on the floor! How DARE YOU DISRESPECT HIM LIKE THAT!!!"

The agent's mouth dropped. "I-I-I d-didn't know it was him, I-I'm sorry…"

Clarissa came up behind her and gently squeezed Lois' shoulders. "Come on, let's go," she said, steering her out of the room. "And you," she said, turning back to the insolent man, "Don't think that your department head won't be hearing about this, you got that?" All he could do was nod.

The women had gotten to the stairs and were about to head up when Lois's eyes traveled down the length of the hallway to her right, the path that they hadn't taken when they first entered the bunker.

"What's down there?"

Her friend eyed her nervously. "You don't want to know."

"Oh God, is that…is that where…?"

Clarissa simply nodded.

"Show me."

They walked through the labyrinth in silence for a short while before Clarissa spoke up. "I've been talking to my superiors and we're at a loss as to what to do with this place. Personally, I want to see it blown to hell, but then there's the question of what would happen should the Kryptonite resurface and fall into the wrong hands."

"Have you considered imploding the bunker to ensure that the Kryptonite never comes to light?"

"We thought of that too; the only problem is that we need to keep the structure intact as part of the evidence against the men we arrested back in February. Right now we have security teams covering the area twenty-four hours a day, but you and I both know that extra security won't keep the determined and willing away, Lois."

She nodded silently in agreement, pondering other alternatives for getting rid of the space safely, when Clarissa stopped in front of a steel door. The Special Agent turned the key in the lock and opened it, stepping inside and grabbing the large flashlight that had been left just inside the entryway by some of her colleagues. Lois gasped in horror as the green walls around her sparkled like glitter. She estimated the room to be about 8 feet by 8 feet, and it contained little else than a thin mattress in one corner and an empty bucket in another.

_They kept him here for how many weeks? And kept him prisoner in places just like this for six months…How do human beings do that to one another? Oh God I—_"I think I'm going to be sick," she said before bolting for the stairs herself. The nausea came on suddenly and she barely got to the back of the shed before throwing up next to her husband who had been staring off into the vastness of space to try and calm himself down. As soon as Lois re-emerged he snapped out of it and began rubbing her back soothingly as she vomited in the dry grass.

"I'm sorry I brought you here, Lois. I thought…" he let out a sigh. "I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I thought that maybe if I could see this place on my own terms that I could put it behind me. But I'm not strong enough."

She wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand and stood up, holding him close to her. "You're plenty strong to have withstood conditions like that for six months. I'm not even allergic to Kryptonite and I couldn't stand it."

His face grew into more of a frown before he spoke. "So you saw it then? You…"

"Yes, I saw."

"I figured that's why Clarissa didn't take us down that way." He grew silent once more. "Do you think I'll ever be able to get over this, that I won't always be haunted by this pain and this place?"

She contemplated the weight of the question before answering. "Clark, I…" and again she stopped herself, trying to choose how best to phrase what she wanted to say, for they both knew that memories of his abduction would plague them for both for years to come. "I wish I could say something to take away all that they did to you, but all the apologies in the world can't erase what happened. And as for you getting past this? Yes, I think you can. As a matter of fact I KNOW you can; just look at how far you've come already these last few months," she slipped her hand in his and he gave her a wan smile, then raised her knuckles up to his lips and kissed them tenderly. "And although the memories of what they did will always be with you, they'll fade away with time and love—and that's what you've got in abundance now; time with the people you love and who love you back."

Clark closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm glad you insisted on coming with me. I…I wouldn't have been able to go through this alone," he told her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug behind the shed and away from prying eyes. They remained like that for some time before Lois looked up into his face.

"What do you say we head home?" she asked softly.

The question was barely out of her mouth before Clark scooped her up into his arms and ran at full speed for the other end of the property, deeper into the darkness and in the opposite direction of the press. With a single leap he took off just as they were about to hit the fence, flying higher and higher into the sky before winding their way back to the safety of Metropolis.


	71. Chapter 71

_**Metropolis,**_** September 3, 2008.** Clark's nightmares had been coming back in short flashes as the one year anniversary of his abduction approached, but he hadn't let on to Lois about it yet, as they hadn't gotten too violently out of hand. At work, Perry could see the bags under his eyes and he looked to the other half of his dynamic reporting duo to see if there was trouble brewing at home, but her eyes were just as full of concern for the Midwestern-born reporter as his were. The Chief chose to dismiss them early that day, assigning full coverage of the anniversary story to someone else, while ordering his top investigative team to go home and get some rest. 

He decided to broach the subject with Lois and Jason at dinner that evening. "I don't want to worry either of you, but I'm having my nightmares again." His wife's face fell open in surprise as the source of the trouble finally came out, while his son just looked glumly down at his plate, pushing his tater tots around with his fork. "They haven't been as bad as before, but I know it's going to get worse before it gets better. That's why I'm proposing that I spend the next couple of nights sleeping alone at the Fortress—that way I know I won't scare or hurt anyone when things get out of control."

"Oh, Clark, no! I'll sleep on the couch, it's ok, you shouldn't have to run away from us because of this! We need to…" she let her voice trail off, as he got the faraway look in his eye just then.

"There's some kind of medical emergency at Metropolis General. They're evacuating patients and initiating a lock down. I need to go investigate," and without another word he got up from his chair, spun into his suit and took off out the window.

"We'll finish this discussion when you get back!" she called out after him, knowing full well he could hear her.

Jason continued to push his food around his plate a while longer before his Mom spoke up.

"What is it, Jason, are you not hungry?" He shook his head. "Are you worried about school? I promise you'll have just as much fun in the second grade as you did in the first…"

"No it's not that, it's…" he pushed the carrots around before saying, "I'm having bad dreams too, just like Dad."

"Oh, Honey! Why didn't you say anything earlier?!"

"I didn't want him to worry because it's…" he let his voice trail off and he peered up at her with his sad blue eyes. "You know…"

"Jason Samuel Kent, how many times do I have to tell you that what happened last year was not your fault?! Now come here," she demanded. He got up and went over to her and she held him close. "Come on, we'll leave the dishes for later. I want you to tell me about your bad dreams…it'll help a lot, getting them off your chest and out in the open, trust me."

Mother and son moved into the living room, sitting on the sofa to talk, the sound of the news report on the TV playing in the background. The story was about an unidentified man at Metropolis General who had recently returned to the country after spending time abroad; he'd entered the ER several hours earlier and officials discovered he had a rare and virulent virus. The facility had been evacuated, with Superman's help, and the Man of Steel was now trying to help medical professionals locate the source of the contagion so they could treat the man's illness effectively. Another glance at the television a few hours later informed Lois that her husband would be working late into the night and she got up from the sofa to get Jason ready and settled into bed.

She stood in the doorway of their son's bedroom, watching him sleep, his wild brown hair attempting to form a Kryptonian curl on his brow. _My boys…so alike in so many ways, and not just in speed, either...it's in the way they care for others more than they care for themselves. Yep, Jason __definitely__ takes after his father in that respect. _He rolled over in his sleep and she smiled. _But I know there's a little of me in there too, somewhere, _Lois thought as she let out a soft sigh, adding, _He really is growing up so fast…_She stifled a yawn before returning to the living room, staying up late to watch the news. An hour later and she headed to her own bed, propping herself up on the pillows and reading an old book in the hopes that Clark would soon come home and join her. She fell asleep sitting upright waiting for him sometime around 1 AM.

* * *

Clark arrived at the_ Daily Planet_ bullpen around 6:30 in the morning after coming down the stairs from the roof, hoping he wouldn't have to explain to any other early birds why he had shown up without his wife. _I can always say I pulled an all-nighter working on that hospital story…_ He plunked himself down in front of his computer and did some background work on the patient in quarantine before drafting an outline. 

Lois arrived at work as soon as she could after seeing Jason off at the bus stop for his last day of day camp. She strode into the office and took note of how few people were around when she spied her husband sitting at his desk, hunched over his work, looking as he did every other day; she made a beeline for him.

"Morning, Sweetheart," he said, standing up as he heard her approach and preparing to kiss her.

"Don't you Sweetheart me," she rebuffed him, keeping him at arm's length. "Where were you last night?"

He gulped audibly; then, making sure his high-pitched voice was heard by those around him, "I was uh…I was w-working on that story….you know, t-the one that broke at Met. General l-last night."

She leaned in closer, speaking in a voice barely above a whisper but which he heard clear as a bell. "Don't toy with me, Smallville, I know that Superman solved the problem around 2:30 AM, they said as much on the news this morning, so how come you never came home?" Her hazel eyes locked with his as she asked the question, and he realized then how he hurt her by not leaving word. During their brief engagement they both came to terms with the fact that he would be keeping long hours at his 'second job', and that he'd rarely be able to spend a full night at home, but to stay away without any explanation, however brief…_That was stupid, Kent, really stupid, _he thought as he looked back at her.

"Can we take this outside maybe?" he asked, eying the stairwell. She nodded in agreement and he lead her toward the stairs and up onto the roof.

Once they emerged into the crisp early morning air he spoke to her in his normal tone of voice. "Lois, I'm sorry. It was late and I figured it would just be easier for me to go back to the Fortress, that way I wouldn't frighten anybody if and when the nightmares came on. I didn't mean to make you upset."

She stood before him with her arms crossed and a sharp look on her face. "It's not just about me this time, Clark, although I do remember specifically saying that we would finish that discussion later on. After you left last night Jason admitted to me that he's been having nightmares too, what with the anniversary drawing near, and I was hoping you would come home so we could figure out what we could do to help him."

He crossed the length of the roof and sat down near the edge. "Why didn't he say anything before now?" he asked, looking up at her worriedly.

"Because as awful as that day was for him he realizes how much worse the ensuing experience was for you and he didn't want to dredge up the bad memories. He was looking out for you, putting your needs above his own…just like a certain someone else I know," she said, with a slight hint of amusement at the irony of the situation in her voice. _And I thought mothers and daughters had complicated relationships…looks like fathers and sons don't have it any easier._

Clark looked up at her again as she implied that Jason took after him. "You really think he's like me?" he asked, forgetting about the reason why they were on the roof discussing such things in the first place.

"Of course he is! Sometimes I wonder if there's any of me in there at all, or if the Kryptonian in him beat it all out!" she replied jokingly.

He got up from his seat and stood before her. "Oh no, you're in there. Jason is just as sarcastic as you, and if it's possible I think he's even more inquisitive. Besides, he has your hair and your adorable little nose to prove that the Lane gene pool is alive and kicking," he replied, playfully bopping the tip of her nose with his finger.

"Great, we're in for more trouble than I thought: superpowers _AND_ super-curiosity…" They shared a laughed.

"Seriously though, about the Fortress…I really do think it's best if I stay there for a little while; at least until Sunday or Monday to see if the nightmares dissipate. I must have had a pretty bad one last night because when I woke up I discovered that not only was I sweating and shaking, but that the crystal platform next to the bed had a huge crack in it, and those things were made to last."

Lois let out a sigh and shook her head, her chestnut hair falling softly around her shoulders. "They just don't make Kryptonian furniture like they used too…"

Clark laughed uproariously at her snark. "Lois, what's wrong with us?! When I get serious, you get sarcastic. When you get serious, I get sarcastic. Honestly!"

She shrugged her shoulders. "What? I don't see anything wrong with it, it's what works for us; your own mother recognized that even before we got married! And as far as our sleeping arrangement goes…I'll let you decide what you think is best, although I'd much rather sleep on the couch and let you have the bed if you're so worried about hurting me—I just think you'd be more comfortable at home, that's all. Just promise me that if you do head up North again you won't go without talking to Jason first, please?"

He looked down at her with a benevolent smile on his face. "I won't. In fact, I'll pick him up this afternoon from camp and have a chat with him." He paused and let loose a contented sigh. "Lois Lane-Kent, you are simply too good for me. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Lois laughed. "Well, I figured I kind of owed you after you saved my life for the hundredth time…"

"…and I'd save you a hundred times more…" he said as he started peppering her cheek and neck with little kisses.

"Does this mean I have cart blanche on the heroic efforts for awhile? Because there's an assignment down on the East Side that I've been vying for…"

"Mmmhmmmm…wait, what? The East Side?! NO! _Lois_…"

She blushed as she giggled. "Geez, I was only kidding! Man you really tune out when you're focused on something…"

"With that something being you. What can I say, you're a welcome distraction from the chaotic sounds of the world…speaking of chaos, we better hurry up and get back downstairs; Perry just pulled into the garage and if he doesn't see us in the bullpen he's going to go ballistic again..."

"Alright if you say so," she said, starting to move away from him before turning around abruptly and planting a long hard kiss on his lips. Lois pulled back from him several moments later and headed for the stairwell looking very satisfied while leaving her husband behind her, dazed and smiling on the rooftop. She turned back to him face as she stood by the door. "Clark? Are you coming?"

"What? Oh right, I'm right behind you…" he trotted over to her and they descended back down to the bullpen grinning like a pair of love-struck fools.


	72. Chapter 72

_**Metropolis**_**, September 22, 2008. **Lois couldn't help but marvel at her life as she walked along the busy sidewalks of Metropolis back to the _Planet_. Jason had settled nicely into the second grade and Clark had returned home two days after the anniversary of his abduction, the nightmares of both her boys having abated somewhat. The little family had hit their stride.

That's what she was thinking to herself when she spotted Eddie, her former informant, at a hot dog stand twenty feet away. Ever since he provided Lois with a break in the Superman case last December he'd been keeping his distance; upon her return to work at the _Planet_ she discovered that he'd been feeding rival press members at the _Messenger_ information that was once exclusively given to her.

"Eddie! Hey Eddie, it's Lois! What's going on, I haven't heard from you in awhile…" He took off before she got within ten feet of him, and she'd given chase; for as much as she disliked the guy personally, he'd been her informant first, and his information was generally better than most.

"I just want to talk, Eddie! I swear I'm not mad!" _Ok, that's a lie, but I'm really not THAT mad…_ "Did you not like the food? Because I'll get you better food if you'll stop and talk to me, honest!"

He slowed down at the mention of food and turned to look at her, but Lois had the look of a lioness finally about to catch her prey and he re-doubled his efforts to get away from her by darting faster down the street.

_Dammit!_ "Listen, you little weasel, you can't hide from me forever!" she cried out as he darted down an alley. She followed suit. "You hear me?! You can't hide from me forever, or my name isn't Lois Lane-Ke…whoa!" Without warning she found herself dangling up in the air, suspended under her arms by a man clad in red, yellow and blue. Lois shot daggers at him with her eyes.

"Put me down this instant!" she cried up at him as he looked down with an amused smirk on his face.

"If you insist…" he replied playfully as they touched down on a nearby rooftop.

"Clark!" she hissed under her breath after making sure no one was around. "What the heck did you go and do that for?!?! I was finally going to find out why Eddie defected! He was my informant, mine, and I was about to steal him back when you swooped in out of nowhere! GEESH!"

He smiled at her and took a step forward to close the gap. "It's time to let him go, Lois. Eddie _was_ your informant, now he isn't. Besides, I think you have a better secret weapon than anyone at the _Messenger_ does at your disposal."

"Oh yeah, what's that?" she asked.

Clark feigned a look of shock. "Why me, of course."

"Right, right, I forgot about that. I guess you do come in handy sometimes…" she replied, leaning in for a kiss, her former informant all but forgotten. But her husband rebuffed her, cocking his head to one side as if listening to a disturbing sound.

"What is it, what's the matter?" she asked as he guided her over to a locked chest on the roof and made her sit down.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked with genuine concern, crouching beside her seated figure.

"I feel fine, why, what's wrong?"

"Just hold still a minute." He listened a second longer. "It's your heart…it's beating abnormally fast…"

She scoffed. "Are you implying that I'm out of shape and need to start going back to the gym? Because if you are then you have not been paying attention at night when we…"

"No, I'm not being facetious here." He paused a moment longer, straightening up before her. He x-rayed her chest, discovering her heart to be in perfect working order. Clark went back to focusing in on the sound before a shocked expression crossed his face.

"Honey," he said, almost in a whisper, "when's the last time your _Aunt Flo_ came to town?"

"Hmm?" she asked, scrunching up her face, trying to figure out what he meant. "Aunt Flo? You know I don't have an aunt by that …" but then recognition dawned, stopping her mid-thought. "Oh my gosh, you're using _that_ euphemism? I haven't heard it referred to that since junior high!"

"Yes, well, indulge me and my Midwestern ways please. When was the last time…?"

Lois counted back in her head. "Maybe eight or ten weeks or so ago, I think. Why?"

He raised an eyebrow at her curiously. "That isn't a little long?"

"Not for me…for my body that's normal. But what does this have to do with anything, Clark? You're starting to scare me."

He started to say something, then stopped and started pacing back and forth in front of her. He went to open his mouth again, only to stop just as abruptly. Finally he ceased in his pacing and looked directly at her. "I heard you, your…well I guess you'd call them your bio-signs. I'm tuned in to you and Jason. Anyhow, I heard you chasing after Eddie and when I swooped in to get you and bring you up here I was still listening to you, and your heartbeat was much faster than it's normal rhythm but I chalked that up to the running. When it still hadn't slowed down I thought maybe something else was wrong but by all appearances you're perfectly healthy. The only other explanation I can offer is that it wasn't just you I was hearing…"

"You think I'm pregnant!" she said, her right hand fluttering to her mouth while her left hand reflexively covered her stomach.

"That would be my guess, yes."

"Oh my gosh," she said, looking down at her midsection. "And we were being so careful too!"

He simply stared at her, carefully schooling his features to mask the feeling of hurt her tone had left him with. "Did you not want anymore kids? I mean, I know we hadn't discussed it but I thought that maybe one day Jason would have a younger sibling…" he let the thought trail off as she jumped out of her seat and flung her arms around him.

"Of course that's not what I meant you daft man! It's just that...well, it's all so soon! I thought we'd have a chance to be married for a little while first before we tried again; and I want Jason to have a little brother or sister too!"

Clark let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I see." The grin crept across his face slowly but surely…_I'm going to be a Daddy again…I'm really going to be a Daddy again…_

Lois looked out to the City around them, then asked, "Can you meet me at home in twenty minutes?"

He shook his head out of his daydream. "Um, sure, that won't be a problem. Do you need me to drop you off anywhere?"

"Just back in the alleyway will be fine."

"Ok…are you sure you don't need my help with something?"

She thought about his offer for a minute then shook her head. "No, this is something I need to take care of myself. I'll see you at our place soon though, ok?" she asked, pecking him on the cheek before stepping onto his boots to be brought down to the alley.

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Lane-Kent," he replied as he flew down off the rooftop, depositing her back where he'd scooped her up just a moment before. She hopped off his shoes and strode back out onto the street as if her meeting clandestinely with Superman in broad daylight were an everyday occurrence. He watched her blend in with the rest of the crowd on the sidewalk before vaulting back up into the air and to their home.

Clark picked up his work clothes off the _Planet_ rooftop and flew back to the apartment in record time, swapping one suit for another before pacing to and fro in the living room. After what seemed like an eternity he heard her key turn in the lock and he super-sped to answer it.

"Hi," she said in a salacious tone of voice, leaning upward to kiss him on the lips as she kicked the door closed behind her. He pretended not to notice the brown paper bag in her hand.

"Hello yourself…" he said as they separated. "So, is this what you had to take care of?" He craned his neck to try and peer into the bag and she swatted him away.

"Very funny, you, and yes it is. I called Dr. Morin and scheduled an appointment for the day after tomorrow to be absolutely sure…not that you aren't a great personal sonogram but you don't have a medical degree, at least none that I've ever seen, and I want to get word from a professional before we go saying anything to anybody. That said, I thought we could at least try and confirm our own suspicions here at home with this," and she whipped out the pregnancy test from the bag, holding it out to him.

Clark took the package awkwardly in his hands. "Oh, ok. Sooooooo…how do these things work?" he asked, turning it over as he tried to find the directions.

Lois took it back from him. "It's easy. I'll just step in the bathroom with the stick, then I'll come back out here and we'll wait three minutes, and we'll take a look to see if there's one line or two."

He looked over at her, still puzzled. "And the lines mean…?"

"One line, not pregnant. Two lines, pregnant."

"Oh. Easy."

"Yep." She strode over to the bathroom.

"I'll uh…I'll just w-wait right here…" he replied nervously before plopping himself down on the sofa.

A minute later she re-joined her husband with an egg timer in her hands, setting it for three minutes. Clark put his arm around her as she snuggled into him with a content look on her face; he, however, wore a face full of anxiety. The constant clicking in his ears seemed interminable and he wanted to hurl the device across the room and speed into the bathroom, willing the stick to provide an answer.

The bell sounded and Lois sat back up, stretching before getting up off the couch and heading at a leisurely pace to the bathroom to retrieve the stick. He sat there, then got up and paced, then sat back down, then decided to pace some more before she came out again.

"Honey, it's ok, calm down…" she said, placing a hand lightly on his arm.

"I know, it's just, I'm so…so…EXCITED! I mean, what if we created life all over again?! And this time I get to be there, from the beginning and…well it means that Jason won't be alone! I mean, I know he isn't alone now, but he won't be alone like I was as a kid, and…" he started pacing again.

"Clark, you haven't even asked about the results yet."

"Hmm? The results? Oh my gosh, the results! Well are we…?"

Lois nodded and blushed. "Yes. Congratulations, Dad."

"Oh LOIS!" he sped over to her and lifted her up off the ground, kissing her. He was so overjoyed he didn't realize he started hovering.

"Um, Sweetheart? Think you can come back to Earth?"

"What? Oh, right, sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I'm glad you're as happy as I am about this."

"Why wouldn't I be happy?! We're going to have a BABY!"

She grinned at his enthusiasm. "I know but let's…let's just keep this to ourselves for a little while. I want us to tell your mother together…"

"Oh my gosh, Mom, she'll be over the moon! Another grandchild…let's go out to Smallville now, I'm sure she's home…" he said hurriedly, about to spin into the suit.

Lois reached out a hand to stop him. "Whoa there, not so fast! I want to wait until we've received confirmation from Dr. Morin, not to mention that your Mother will be coming out here next week to celebrate Jason's birthday…we'll tell them both then, the day after Jason's family party."

"Both? You mean you don't want to tell our son right away either?"

She sighed and took a step back from him so she could look up at him properly. "It's not that, Clark, it's just that…we didn't get to enjoy our engagement as much as we wanted to because the office gossips ruined it for us and I want us to revel in this, enjoy this…" she said emphatically, placing his hand on her abdomen as she spoke, "…and I don't want our Little Guy spilling the beans prematurely when we have to bring him in to the bullpen."

Clark held his hand there, fingers splayed, and nodded solemnly. "I understand, it's just…we're going to have a baby! Lois, I want to shout it from the rooftops!" He stood there grinning like an idiot at her, the same grin she'd seen all those years in her mild-mannered partner at the _Planet_.

"I know…" she replied huskily, stepping forward to kiss him again.


	73. Chapter 73

_**Metropolis,**_** September 24, 2008.** "Dr. Morin says we have a honeymoon baby on our hands," Lois informed Clark after they'd put Jason to bed. She walked over to the couch that evening with two bottles of water and a deflated bag of popcorn which he promptly took from her; within seconds the buttery aroma filled the air. "That is just too cute when you do that…I bet you used it to impress all the girls back in the day." 

He grinned sheepishly and shook his head. "Nope, only you. So, a honeymoon baby you say? Interesting…" She leaned up against his chest just then and he put his large paws over her barely bulging stomach…_To think that there's a human being growing inside of there, a bit of me and Lois, and it's been almost three months…_he dwelt on that knowledge a moment longer before he stiffened in alarm. Lois noted how tense he got and immediately sat up, turning to face him.

"Clark, what's the matter?" He shook his head at her as he tried to differentiate between her heartbeat and the baby's.

"You told me, a long time ago, that when you were pregnant with Jason you didn't have any morning sickness, correct?"

"Yes…"

"And you weren't exposed to Kryptonite at all during that time were you?"

"Not that I'm aware of, although I didn't know I had to be wary of it back then. Besides, it's not like I kept it hanging around the house as a souvenir…" at last Lois caught on to her husband's train of thought and she let out a gasp. "You're thinking that the baby might be hurt somehow because of what I saw in Iowa? That I threw up because of the Kryptonite?" she clutched a hand on her midsection and shuddered at the thought.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned; we know Jason isn't affected when he's exposed to it externally, but we have no idea what it could do to a child in utero. You're sure that the Doctor said the baby was healthy?"

"Yes, that's what she told me. Do you think I should go in to double check? I don't have another appointment until next month but I can call her office tomorrow and see if they can squeeze me in for an emergency…"

"Honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. The baby's heart rate seems strong and steady, and if the Doctor says we're ok, then we're ok. We'll just need to be more diligent in the future."

She bit her lower lip in serious thought before firing back with her trademark sarcasm. "I have an idea; how about us Kents just stay away from Kryptonite altogether, how's that?"

"Sounds brilliant. Why didn't I think of that sooner?" he added with a smirk. Lois gave a small laugh, trying to brush off their near-scare before settling back into her husband's arms.

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, September 30, 2008.** _Our little boy is seven years old today…when did this happen?_ Lois asked herself as she looked at the collection of photos on her desk. Jason, shortly after he was born; playing with his toys at the age of two; running around with his father at age six and a half. She smiled as she looked over the last one, the two of them clearly enjoying themselves out on the farm. It was one of the few snapshots she was able to get of them the last time they were out there visiting Martha, and it was a rare moment when they weren't racing around like little speed demons. Lois glanced at the time on her computer and looked across the aisle, finding her husband MIA…._so long as he's home in time for the family party it'll be alright._ She filed away the loose paperwork on her desk and got up to put her coat on. 

"I'll see you tonight, Perry!" she called out as she poked her head in his office, preparing to leave for the day.

"Hm? Tonight?"

"Chief! It's Jason's birthday party, remember? Just the family…?"

He got a perplexed look on his face before bending down behind his desk and pulling up a large red box with a bow. "I know, I didn't forget, I just couldn't help teasing you a little," he replied with a grin.

"Honestly! Sometimes I think you're worse than the boys I have at home, Old Man," she scolded him teasingly, then headed for the exit.

She was almost there when Jimmy's voice rang out. "Um, Lois? Sorry, but uh, this man has a delivery for you," he said as he pointed to the courier in the khaki uniform next to him.

"If you'll just sign right here ma'am," he said, extending the clipboard out to her. Lois duly signed on the dotted line and took the large brown package into her hands. It was addressed simply to Jason Lane, care of Lois Lane at the _Daily Planet_, and it looked as if it had traveled quite a bit since it was first sent out as the wrapping was rather weather-beaten. There was no return address.

Jimmy sidled up next to her and examined it. "Maybe it's from Richard?" he posited hesitantly. She looked over at him then back to the package.

"Maybe you're right, although why he didn't write my full name I don't know…oh," she said, more for her benefit than his. _It must still hurt him to know that I married Clark when he and I were engaged for so long…well it doesn't matter, I'll still make sure Jason knows Richard's thinking of him._ She clutched the hefty package to her chest, reminding Jimmy to be at their place tonight by 6, before heading out the door to pick up the cake at the bakery.

* * *

Perry, Jimmy, Martha and Ella all arrived on time, laden with gifts. The parents had decided ahead of time to split the celebration in two, having one party with the grown-ups on their son's actual birthday, and another one over the weekend for just Jason and his friends. It was rumored among the little boys and girls he invited that Superman might put in an appearance at the party too…his parents just laughed when Jason brought home that tidbit of information. 

Ella walked in the door and instantly made apologies for the General, who she said was on-duty on base and unable to attend, and she promptly presented her grandson with a remote control camouflage Hummer in an attempt to cover over the man's absence. Clark overheard his Mother-in-law talking to Lois in the kitchen ten minutes later, saying that the General still wasn't thrilled over the choices their daughter had made, but she herself saw how happy she was and she let her husband know it.

"He's still miffed that you didn't marry Richard, Dear, and he's taking it out on you, Clark and Jason. I told him that if he didn't come with me tonight that he was on laundry detail for a month; stubborn old fool, he chose his dirty socks over his own grandson." She let loose a weary sigh before continuing. "I know it's hard, Sweetheart, but just give him time, he'll come around. And if he doesn't, I'll _**make**_ him come around."

"I know Mom, it's just…it's not fair to Clark and Jason, that's all," _and me,_ she finished silently.

Ella walked over and put her arm around her daughter. "I know, Dear, I know."

Clark coughed in the doorway. "Uh, anything I can h-help you with in here?"

Lois looked up at him and knew he'd heard every word, for she could easily see the small hint of disappointment in his eyes that her mother could not. He wanted to have a good rapport with his father-in-law, but Clark also knew that the General would never warm up to the façade that he put forth in the City. _If my Father only knew who he really was…_Lois thought to herself as she was about to answer her husband's question.

He got that intense look on his face just then and she knew he'd be rushing out in a moment's time. Sure enough, he cleared his throat and said, "Um, Honey, I forgot to go out and get that…"

"Oh, right, right! Well go!" she ordered him. He took off down the hallway and out the front door, not even stopping under the false pretense of grabbing his jacket.

"What the devil was that all about?" Perry asked, striding over to the snack bar that opened into the kitchen. Martha sat on the stool next to him and shot Lois a look.

"He…he forgot a part of Jason's gift!" she replied, looking around to the living room to make sure her son didn't hear her. Jason and Jimmy were engrossed in the artist's tablet and colored pencils that the photographer had given the boy for his birthday, and the young man was busy discussing and illustrating the point about depth perception to the seven year old.

"Well well well, can't forget that. That's why mine didn't come with any loose parts!" he replied enthusiastically, glancing over at the myriad collection of children's books he'd bought for his great-nephew.

Just then the TV in the background flashed to a special news bulletin about a messy car wreck that threatened to blow up in the Adler Tunnel leading into Metropolis. Superman sped onto the scene in a whir of blue behind the head of the on-site reporter, and he hovered over the wreck as he took a deep breath in, blowing out the licking flames. The Man of Steel then started clearing some of the more mangled debris away from the scene and, if it was possible, he appeared to be impatient to get somewhere else.

"Does that man ever stop?" Perry asked. "I mean, it seems like every couple of minutes he's out around the world saving us from our own destruction. When does he ever get a chance to sleep? Or do something fun? Or relax?"

This time it was Lois who gave Martha a sly look as she handed the dinner plates over so that they could set the table.

"I'm sure he makes time for himself, Perry, albeit somewhat reluctantly on occasion," Martha replied with a hint of mirth. Lois barely stifled a giggle. The Editor-in-Chief looked at the two of them curiously before moving to the table to help set the plates.

Lois was about ready to call everyone to dinner when Clark rushed back into the apartment, pushing his glasses up onto his face and clutching a small, crinkled, brown paper bag in his hand. "Dad!" Jason cried out, running up to him. He scooped his son up one handed and grinned, holding him at his side.

"Hey there, Buddy!"

Jason leaned in to whisper into Clark's ear. "Dad, you were great!"

"Thanks, Birthday Boy," he whispered back, kissing him on the forehead before putting him back down. "I'm going to go see if your Mom needs any help in the kitchen. Why don't you go talk to your Grandmas and Uncle Perry and Jimmy?"

The boy ran toward the dining area where the adults broke off their conversation and smiled at him. He scrambled up into Martha's lap and started talking animatedly from there, engaging the attention of all four of the grown-ups.

Clark strode into the kitchen and put his hand on the small of his wife's back as she stood over a casserole dish of homemade macaroni and cheese. His mother had given her the recipe after Jason had spent the night in Smallville one time, and it was all the little boy clamored for for a week afterwards.

"That smells delicious," he said, bending down to kiss her.

"Most things from the kitchen of Martha Kent do."

"Ah, and now we can add the kitchen of Lois Lane-Kent to that list as well. You know I still can't get over the fact that you can cook."

"Yes, well, it just proves that miracles do happen," she replied dreamily.

Clark reached a hand around her and placed it firmly over her stomach, whispering in her ear, "Yes they do."

She blushed bashfully and turned away, resting her free hand on top of his. It was then that Lois caught sight of the brown paper bag in his hand. "What's in there?"

He shifted in place nervously, than unfurled it to reveal half of a broken brick. "I heard you tell Perry that I went out to get a part of Jason's gift and I didn't want to return empty-handed."

"And you brought home a brick?"

"Well it's not like the bicycle needed anything else, and it was either this just to show that I ran out for something, or a bike horn, and I _knew_ that would drive us both crazy...maybe me more than you, but still."

She nodded emphatically. "Good call. Why don't you go put that in the bedroom and then help me bring this out to the table? Oh, and we need to get the cake out of the refrigerator…" He looked over to see that the wooden shades of the snack bar were closed so he was hidden from the view of his guests, then he was gone and back by her side in an instant, gently teasing the large sheet cake out of the fridge. "Sometimes you amaze me…"

"Sometimes?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. They were kissing again when Ella showed up in the doorway and coughed.

"Ahem. Sorry to interrupt, but some of the natives are getting hungry," she said, jerking her head toward the dining room.

"Oh. Right. Clark, would you…?" Lois handed off the main course to him, making sure he was using pot holders to hold onto the heated dish, and got everyone seated while he followed behind her with the food. Jason's eyes grew wide and he licked his lips hungrily, causing everyone at the table to howl with laughter.

* * *

The guests showed themselves out around 9 that evening, with Martha being one of the last to leave. 

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you back to the hotel, Mom? It's no trouble you know…in fact, I really wish you'd stayed here; Lois and I would have gladly taken the couch…"

Martha sighed and looked her son in the eye. "Clark, you're a grown man, not to mention newly married. You don't need an old woman kicking you and your wife out of your own bed and so long as I can afford the hotel then that's where I'll stay. And I am perfectly capable of taking a taxi back tonight by myself…" he eyed her suspiciously at that statement. That's when she leaned in and whispered, "Besides, you should stay here, Lois looks a little tired. I think all the work she put into that party tuckered her out."

Clark looked over at his wife and noted that she was looking a little sluggish, albeit for reasons different than what his mother had just stated.

"Alright, but I owe you one."

"That you do. Good night," she said, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him on his forehead. Jason came running down the hallway in his pajamas for a good night kiss from her too.

"Oh, you are getting entirely too big, young man!" she said jokingly as she tried to lift him up. Clark picked up his son with the greatest of ease and Martha planted a kiss on each chubby little cheek offered to her. "Sleep tight, Birthday Boy."

He nodded. "Good night!"

Martha crossed the room to where Lois was tossing out the last of the paper cake plates. "Good night, Dear, it was a wonderful party."

"Thank you, Martha. I'm glad you could fly all the way out here for it," she said, winking at her husband. The older woman laughed.

"Now don't forget, you promised me we'd have a little time to catch up tomorrow around 4 o'clock, just the two of us."

"I won't forget, I just have to make sure that Clark is around to pick up Jason from after-school care."

"I will be, barring any unforeseen circumstances," he called out from the background.

"Such as fire, flash flood, car accident, bank robbery, hostage situation, shipwreck, mugging…"

"Yep, pretty much," he responded, chuckling.

"Well at least I knew what I was getting into when I married you," Lois said, moving toward the front door where he stood and kissing him.

"And on that note I'll see you both tomorrow. Good night kids!"

"Good night!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Jason came speeding back into the living room toward his parents with a package in hand. He'd wheeled his new bicycle back into his parent's bedroom, there being no space left in his own. and he caught sight of the box Lois had left on the bed that afternoon when she got home. He held it out to her again now, asking eagerly, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, what's this?! Is this another present?!" 


	74. Chapter 74

_**Metropolis, **_**September 30, 2008.** She took the brown paper package away from her son with some difficulty given it's awkward weight. "Jason, isn't that heavy?" He shook his head no. Lois glanced at her husband.

"I know, I know, I'll talk to him about it later…" he said, before glancing at the address on the front and tipping his glasses down the bridge of his nose.

"Clark Kent, are you x-raying this package?"

"Yes."

"And what do you think gives you the right to do that?"

"The fact that it's made of lead and I can't see through it, that's what."

"So that's why it's so heavy!" she exclaimed, shifting it in her arms.

"Does that mean it's a present for me?" The young boy looked to his parents for confirmation. "Mom? Dad?" Jason asked, looking from one to the other eagerly while eying what lay in Lois' hands.

Lois smiled at her son. "Yes it is, and I _think_ it's from Richard. Here, why don't you go open it over there," she said, handing it back to him while pointing toward the end of the coffee table. He zoomed off.

"Hey there, Buddy, wait for me; I'm curious to see what he sent you too," Clark called out before following his son.

They sat down on the floor side by side while Lois sat in the armchair opposite them. After tearing off the packaging and opening up the cardboard box the three of them were treated to the sight of an ornately decorated lead box.

"OOoooh, it's pretty," Jason said excitedly as he was about to undo the latch. Lois and Clark were studying the design on top when their son lifted open the lid. A faint pop was heard and the green dust was in both boy's faces before either of them had a chance to react.

"OH MY GOD!" Lois screamed, jumping up from her seat as Clark and Jason started struggling for breath.

She was about to dart around the table to help them when her husband cried out, "NO!" His voice was raspy as he frantically tried to brush the Kryptonite out of his and Jason's faces. "Lois," he coughed, "The baby!"

She looked from her son to her husband with a face drawn and full of panic, a hand at her stomach. Jason was struggling for each breath, much like he'd done when he was younger and on an inhaler, and Clark was beginning to do the same.

"Get…out…" he ordered, scooping up their son. The boy felt like a load of bricks in his arms.

"But I can't leave you two! Oh God what are we going to do?!"

Clark was almost to the bathroom, coughing and spluttering as he half-carried, half-dragged Jason, the Kryptonite slowly seeping into both their bronchial systems.

"GET OUT!" he shouted one last time before ducking out of sight. Lois stood stunned in the living room, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest, torn between her boys and her unborn child. A second later she rushed over to the coat rack, grabbed her jacket and cell phone, and walked out the door.

As soon as she entered the hallway she slumped against the wall and frantically dialed 411 to reach Martha's hotel. _Please be back there, please be back there…_ A minute later the concierge connected the call to her room at the Ottman and the woman breathlessly answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Martha, it's Lois, you need to get back here, it's an emergency!"

The fear was rampant in Lois' voice. "I'm on my way," the older woman replied solemnly, grabbing her purse and running out the door. Lois collapsed in a heap on the floor in front of her apartment and cried at her own helplessness.

* * *

It happened so suddenly, the pop, the flash of green, and then his throat was burning, his eyes were watering, and the sweat was forming on his brow. Clark's limbs felt heavy and limp at his sides. The one thing he made out distinctly was the engraving on the inside of the lid, "With Love, LL"…_Luthor,_ Clark thought as he swatted the dust away from him and Jason. _You evil lunatic, one post-mortem parting shot… _He glanced over at his son. 

Until now the boy had shown no reaction whatsoever to the green rock of his father's home world; by all outward appearances Kryptonite had the same effect on him as it did on every other human, that of no effect at all. When Lois had asked Clark what they could expect with regards to their son's future exposure, he posited that prolonged external contact _might_ weaken him, but that they would never know definitively unless he was exposed to it for an extended period of time. Neither parent had ever wanted to test that theory, hoping such a situation would never come to pass…_but now that it's in his system, in his airways and blood stream, _Clark thought as he saw Jason struggling for breath, _it's hurting him just as much as it hurts me_.

Lois started to move around to help them when he remembered about the baby… "NO!" She froze in place, struggling to keep her emotions in check so as to not terrify their bewildered child any further. Jason was wheezing in his seat, eyes wide as he struggled to draw breath. "Lois," Clark coughed, "The baby!" He watched her hand fly to her stomach and the worry break out over her features. _I have to get this stuff off of Jason, off of me, before we inhale any more…_The Kryptonite tickled his throat again and he started to cough. "Get…out…"

"But I can't leave you two! Oh God what are we going to do?!"

He knew she was right, he was weakening fast, and Jason's breathing was growing more ragged and matching his own, but all he could think about was getting the baby away from and getting the Kryptonite off of their son. Clark picked Jason up and started moving as quickly as he could toward the bathroom. The boy was dead weight in his arms and he soon found it difficult to support them both on his own two legs, opting to half-carry and half-drag him toward the shower.

"GET OUT!" he shouted at his wife one more time. Clark felt badly for yelling at her but he needed her to get away from the contagion. _If anything happens to Lois, Jason or the baby I'll never forgive myself…_he thought as he plunked the boy, clothes and all, into the tub. Clark sank to his knees, gasping heavily, and pulled both their shirts off, flinging them to the far corner of the bathroom. The water soon poured down over his son's heaving chest as he gasped for breath, while a green tinged residue trickled off his face and torso and slipped down through the open drain.

"Spit it out, Jason," he urged him in a gravelly voice between coughs, "Spit it out." The child could barely lift his head up but did as he was told. Clark tried to make it to the sink to get a cup of water for Jason to further rinse his mouth out with but found his legs too wobbly to walk on. He crawled.

The full effects of the Kryptonite began to overwhelm him as he crawled back toward the tub; Clark felt as if his very blood was on fire and he struggled to maintain consciousness. _Jason…have to…help Jason…_he was almost to his son's side again with the glass of water in his hands when he passed out, the glass shattering on the floor and cutting his hand in the process.

"Dad!" the boy called out between coughs as Clark slumped to the floor. Jason reached a hand out of the tub as if to steady his father, but soon he too slipped into the dark oblivion.

* * *

Martha came bounding out of the elevator in record time and spotted Lois' crumpled form by the entryway to their apartment. 

"Sweetheart, what happened?!" she called out as Lois scrambled to get up. Without hesitation she took the trembling young woman in her arms.

"I can't believe I was so stupid! There's…there's…" her eyes darted around the empty hallway before whispering, "Kryptonite. It came in a package at work, addressed to Jason. I thought it was a birthday present from Richard, but now…and Clark got hit with it too, they both did. Oh Martha!"

The older woman's face went white and her hands trembled at the mention of the deadly substance, but she bucked up just as fast. "But I don't understand, why aren't you in there?!"

Lois tried to stifle her sobs as she placed a hand over her abdomen. "We wanted…to tell you…together. I'm…I'm pregnant. We don't know what the Kryptonite will do to the baby."

Tears sprung to Martha's eyes, a mixture of fear and joy, but she pushed all other thoughts to the back of her mind as she reached into her jacket pocket for the hotel key. "I understand. Now take this, it's room 1978, and wait for me back at the Ottman. I'll go in there," she pointed to the unlocked apartment door, "And take care of them for you. When the coast is clear I'll call. Do you have your cell phone on you?" Lois simply nodded. "Good, now here's money for the cab. I want you to promise me you won't come back here until I say so. If anything happens to Jason or the baby I know you and Clark will never be able to forgive yourselves." Lois nodded again and Martha kissed her on the cheek before slipping into the apartment, locking her daughter-in-law out of her own home.

The sight that met Martha's eyes shook her to the core. The apartment was half cleaned up after the family party just a few hours before, and she quickly made out the opened lead box that sat on one end of the coffee table with a smattering of fine green dust around it. The trail went off from there and she followed it with her eyes toward the open bathroom door where all she could hear was the sound of running water and nothing else. Martha tentatively made her way down the hall, dreading what she might find.

Her son was sprawled out on the floor with blood on his hand from the shattered glass, and Jason lay half-in and half-out of the tub. Both had their eyes closed and Martha feared the worst until her grandson gave a little cough. She dashed forward and checked for Jason's pulse, then Clark's, finding it thready but there, and she reached over her son's unconscious form to turn the water from the shower head off. With great effort she rolled Clark over onto his back, bringing his head partially up onto her lap.

_Son, I hope you'll forgive me for doing this, but I can't lift you, I just can't…_she said to herself, sending up a silent prayer for mercy as she whacked him hard across the cheek. Even in his weakened state Martha's hand still smarted from the contact. He groaned but kept his eyes closed. She hit him again and shouted:

"CLARK JEROME KENT, IF YOU DO NOT GET UP THIS INSTANT, SO HELP ME…!"

He stirred, coughing violently. "It burns…my throat…my chest…" he mumbled before starting to wheeze anew.

"You have to get up_ NOW, _Son; you have to get up to help Jason."

He squirmed a little more before forcing his eyes open. "Jason…" he turned over in his Mother's lap, reaching for the edge of the tub. There was no hiding the terror in her son's eyes as he watched his own child labor for breath; she was sure the same fear was reflected in her own. Martha forced herself to spur him to action.

"You have to get yourself to bed, I'll take care of your boy." At that he began to move off her lap entirely and over toward a pile of clothes in the corner. Martha quickly discerned the green tint to them.

_My God he's moving toward the Kryptonite to try and shield Jason!_ "Get away from there!" she ordered him. He paused mid-crawl and looked at her, his blue eyes muddled in confusion. "Get to bed! Take off your clothes, I'm getting rid of everything, now GO!"

"I…have to…"

"CLARK, I'm in charge now, so LISTEN TO ME!" she shouted forcefully, pointing to the door. He crawled out of there, dragging himself down the hall while coughing the whole way. Gingerly, Martha lifted Jason out of the tub and pulled off his wet pants, tossing them in the corner before rubbing him down with a towel. Once he was sufficiently dry she threw one of her son's old shirts from the laundry basket on him and carried him with difficulty down the hall to his parent's bedroom as it was the furthest from the Kryptonite. She placed little Jason beside his father; the man had lost consciousness again but woke up when he felt his son being laid beside him.

"It'll be ok, Son," he murmured, reaching a hand out to hold his child. "It'll be ok." Martha placed a hand on Clark's forehead.

"You're burning up!"

He swatted her away testily. "I'm fine, take care of him."

"You are _not_ fine now just stay there, I'll be right back." She scooted away from the bed and grabbed his clothes that were exposed to the dust, stopping in the bathroom to do the same before heading into the kitchen and putting them in a trash bag. The bag she put as far away from the bedroom as possible, hoping to minimize the Kryptonite's effects until she had a chance to clean the area out properly. The lead box she examined briefly on her return trip and noted the double L insignia on the inside of the lid as she firmly closed it shut. Returning to the kitchen she scrubbed her hands as if preparing to go into surgery, then filled two glasses with ice water and got a cold compress for her son's head.

The cool damp cloth placed against Clark's forehead had the same effect as an ice cube would dropped into a river of magma, but it was all Martha could do to try and get his temperature down to a more reasonable level. Jason, on the other hand, was shivering under the sheets, and she rushed to the closet to pull out extra blankets to place on top of him.

"Drink," she urged them both, waking them up and holding a glass to their lips one at a time. "Liquids will get it out of your system faster." They managed to down half a glass between them before settling into a deep slumber, the effects of the Kryptonite exposure knocking them out completely.

After assuring herself that the condition of each of the boys in her charge was stabilized she set about sterilizing the apartment. Martha took the bag of clothes downstairs into the basement along with Luthor's booby-trapped box and placed them both in a corner where they wouldn't do any further harm until a more permanent solution for their disposal could be found. Upon re-entering the apartment she checked her patients' respective fever and chill before spending an hour and a half vacuuming, dusting and scrubbing all the surfaces that had come into contact with the poisonous mineral dust. The combined smell of bleach, lemon and mountain pine soon overwhelmed the small space while satisfying her that the area was as sterile as could be.

Once the apartment was devoid of any Kryptonite, Martha pulled up a chair and an extra blanket and settled in next to her son and grandson. Jason's temperature was fast returning to normal while Clark was still running a high fever which caused her to worry. He'd always averaged a body temperature ten degrees higher than that of a normal human but Martha judged it was now twenty degrees higher than that, and that fact was alarming. She grabbed the cold compress again, slipping some ice in-between the folds of the re-dampened cloth before placing it on his head. That's when she heard a small voice call out to her.

"Grandma?" Jason asked, stirring slightly.

"Shh, it's ok, I'm here."

"Where's Mommy?"

Martha pondered over how best to respond to that before simply saying, "She went to get help." He nodded in understanding

"Grandma, my birthday gift 'sploded."

"Yes it did."

"Did Uncle Richard send it to me? Does he not love me anymore because he isn't my Daddy?"

Martha gasped. "No, Baby, of course he loves you! That gift didn't come from Richard that came from the bad man, Lex Luthor!"

The boy's eyes went wide and he curled up into himself in the bed, making himself look smaller and paler then before. He began to whimper. "But Mommy and Daddy told me the bad man couldn't hurt us anymore, that he was gone!"

"He is gone, this was just…" she sighed, her heart breaking for all the terrible things he'd had to see and hear in his short lifetime. "This was something he did before he went away. This was the last thing."

Jason relaxed a little at the reassurance then looked over at his father. Clark's breathing was labored and he was sweating profusely. "Is Daddy going to be ok?"

Martha nodded, not at all surprised by the child's show of concern for his father…_after all, the saying goes 'Like Father like Son' for a reason_. She cleared her throat. "He will be, Jason, it's just going to take him a little while longer, that's all."

"Oh." He leaned into Clark's shoulder. "Get better Dad…" he mumbled before falling back to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **I used the idea of the exploding Kryptonite birthday gift from Kloklo's story "Keep Breathing", with the author's permission. Thanks Kloklo!!! 


	75. Chapter 75

_**Metropolis,**_** October 1, 2008. **Lois couldn't even think of sleeping that night. She flung her coat on the bed once she got in to Martha's hotel room and began pacing the floor feverishly, anxious for news. The pale sweaty visages of her boys kept floating to the forefront of her mind and she struggled to keep all morbid thoughts at bay. Every so often she'd remember the baby and a hand would fly to her abdomen, _but as long as I'm not vomiting I'm ok…I think_, she'd try and reassure herself.

Finally, around 1:30 in the morning, she got the phone call she'd been waiting for.

"Martha, are they alright?" she asked hurriedly into the receiver.

The older woman let out a deep breath. "Jason's improving nicely. He had the chills earlier but I think his temperature is getting back to normal and I've put him back in his own bed. But Clark…" her voice trailed off as she looked down at her perspiring son.

"Yes? Is he going to be alright?"

"He's got a fever, Lois, a high one. I know he's always been on the warm side but I think that even for him this is dangerous. I've been giving him cold compresses and trying to get him to drink water but at the rate he's going he'll dehydrate himself before long and I don't know what else to do."

The younger woman thought for a moment about how best to help him. "I think I remember reading somewhere that if you stick bags of ice under the armpits and about the back of the neck that that helps…there's also a fan on the floor of the bedroom closet that should help some too."

"Thanks, Dear, it does. I'll call you back later with more news."

Lois stifled a sob and nodded into the phone before letting out a meek "Alright" and hanging up. Sitting in that cold hotel room went against every mothering instinct she had; all she wanted to do was be by her sick son's side, and it drove her mad that she was unable to help her husband as well when both her boys needed her most.

* * *

Martha watched over her son as he tossed in his bed, in the midst of a feverish dream. His temperature seemed to have come down somewhat since she implemented Lois' suggestions but the sheets were still sopping wet with his sweat. _If only his fever would break…_she thought as she watched him with heavy-lidded eyes.

* * *

Clark woke up on the ground of what looked like a Salvador Dalí painting. He was standing in the middle of the barren red and orange desert with a very pregnant Lois on his right and a young Jason holding his hand on his left. They each looked up at him and smiled, secure in the knowledge that they were safe in his presence, and he felt a smile creep over his face as well in spite of being disoriented by his peculiar surroundings. 

The three of them started to walk along and he felt the desert get hot, incredibly hot; it quickly became so uncomfortable even he couldn't bare it. Lois and Jason soon tired and lagged behind, but Clark thought he saw a shelter in the distance and he kept urging them forward. He happened to chance a look behind at Lois one time when he saw the green glowing ooze start to creep over the landscape.

"RUN!" he shouted at his family, pulling them forward by their hands and away from the Kryptonite that was fast encroaching upon them. They hadn't made it far when little Jason's hand slipped from his and he fell to the ground; Clark jerked around to turn back and grab him when Lois sank to her knees, exhausted and unable to move. He stood between the two people he loved most, screaming for help, when the ground beneath his feet opened up.

Down the rabbit hole he went like Alice in Wonderland, unable to fly to safety and the temperature continually rising as he plummeted to an uncertain fate. Clark sensed that the end was near when he felt one last blast of heat before his eyes flew open and he found himself sitting bolt upright in bed.

"Oh, Clark, thank goodness!" Martha said, getting up out of her chair to place a hand on her son's brow, the dark circles under her eyes indicating what a long night she'd had. His forehead was still unbearably warm but it didn't scorch her as it had several hours earlier.

"Where's Jason? Where's Lois? Is everyone alright? What time is it? What _day_ is it?" he asked hoarsely and all in one breath, remembering all the confusion that abounded the last time he woke up in such a manner. This time his eyes scanned the bedroom frantically in search of his missing family.

"One at a time, Son, one at a time…first I need you to sit back and drink this," she said, handing him a glass of water while pushing him down by the shoulder. Clark sat back and did as he was told, noting how his chest felt as if it were being squeezed by a boa constrictor while the burning sensation from before had somewhat abated. "To answer your questions, Jason's feeling much better and he's resting on the sofa in the living room watching cartoons. Lois is in my hotel room waiting for news on you and it is 9:30 in the morning on October 1st."

He let loose a sigh. "And you said Jason's ok? I mean truly ok?"

Martha smiled at him. "He's fine. It was as if he had a bad asthma attack and a cold at the same time, but it passed quickly. He got over the worst of it around 1 or so this morning, while you…well, you gave us quite a scare there but it looks to me like your fever just broke and I think you're in the clear."

"Is that what that was? Because I had the strangest nightmare…"

"I suspected as much, that's why once I knew Jason was going to be alright I moved him out of your bed and into his own, just in case. It looks to me like your children have or will have your dense structure because if your son was any bigger I don't think I could have carried him…"

At the mention of children Clark's thoughts immediately flew to Lois and the baby. "Mom, is Lois, I mean, is she sure that _everything_ is ok?"

Martha patted his forearm reassuringly. "The baby's fine, Clark; she spoke with her doctor this morning, and without giving away the cause for concern, they told her everything sounded alright. Lois said to tell you that she's got an appointment next week just to make sure though, and she also said that she wasn't directly exposed to the Kryptonite when she was in the apartment. She hasn't felt nauseous or anything so she suspects that the poison didn't make it into her system."

Clark lowered his head before eying his Mother again. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. We were going to tell you and Jason today…"

"Honey, I'm just so thrilled at having one grandchild that another is icing on the cake! Your father and I were never sure if having a family was in the cards for you, but now to see you so happy and..."

"I was happy, Mom, but then something like this has to happen and I just don't know what to do! If I wasn't Jason's father he wouldn't have to worry about booby-trapped birthday presents and Kryptonite poisoning…I can't protect him and Lois the way a man with a normal life could and that scares me more than anything, to know that by having them around me I'm constantly putting them in danger like this!"

Martha let loose a sigh of despair; it was the same argument he'd been having with her ever since he realized he could run faster and jump higher than other children--the 'normal' argument. But instead of fighting back this time she decided to change tactics. "You're worried for them because you're not 'normal', is that it? Clark, you keep bandying that word about but do you really know what it means?"

"Normal: conforming to the standard or the common type; usual; not abnormal; regular," he repeated from memory.

"You sound like a walking dictionary; now give me an example of someone we know who's normal."

He thought about that a moment before replying, "You're normal, Mom."

"HA!" she laughed, disturbing him greatly. "Honey, what about my life do you think has been normal? I couldn't give my husband children so we took in an infant from another planet with extraordinary abilities and we raised him as our own. Is that behavior that a normal person would even consider?"

"Not when you put it like that, but I'm the abnormal factor in your life there. If I hadn't landed when and where I did you and Dad wouldn't have found me and I wouldn't have complicated things. Aside from me your life _is_ normal."

She grew stern with him. "You were never a complication or an aberration, Clark; you were and always will be our son whom we love." She paused a moment to re-group. "But you're right, perhaps I'm not the best case for this argument. What about your boss, Perry White?"

"Yes, I'd say he's normal."

"So you think being married to your job is normal? Ben told me about the woman he loved and how he let her get away. Is that normal, letting the love of your life slip through your fingers?" Clark stopped to process this while Martha pressed on. "Or how about your friend, James? He lives his life behind the lens of a camera; what's normal about that? And I know you've seen some horrible things in your life, Son, but what do you think he's seen? Wars, disease, death…it hasn't all been Superman coverage for that young man and he's grown up quite a bit in these last few years. Just like you he's seen things I'd never hope to see, a lot of which I would definitely categorize as being abnormal.

"My point is that 'normal' doesn't exist. You worry about your son being exposed to Kryptonite? Every parent worries about their child, it's just that their fears are all different. And you think that every person out there with someone special in their life doesn't worry about that loved one's safety too? Well I've got news for you, they most certainly do. If anything, Clark, you have extra abilities with which to better watch out for and protect your family and friends; last night's incident was just a lapse in judgment, that's all. It happens to the best of us."

He lay there upon the pillow mulling over her words and nodding in agreement, his lids half-closed. His eyes soon grew too heavy, but he managed to say, "I know, I just…I can't help… worrying…worrying about…them…" before slipping back into sleep. Martha brushed the hair off his face and settled him back down and under the covers.

"And it never stops, Son…even when they're all grown up and have families of their own, a parent never stops worrying." She leaned over and kissed his forehead before stealing out of the room.


	76. Chapter 76

_**Metropolis**_**, October 1, 2008.** Clark and Jason were well enough on their way to a full recovery from the birthday attack, and Martha had sterilized the apartment to the point that both women felt it was safe for Lois to return home. The first thing she did upon re-entering the apartment was seek out her son who was sitting up on the sofa drinking from a juice box and watching cartoons.

"Mommy!"

"Jason! Oh, Baby, I'm so glad you're alright, I was so worried!" She rushed over without even bothering to take off her coat and held him tight…so tight in fact that he started to cough. "Are you ok? Is it the Kryptonite?" she asked, a little fearful of the potential for exposure but not wanting to leave him again.

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine, you were hugging me too tight," he responded with a grin.

"Oh you little Rascal…" Lois tousled his hair, glad to see him breathing on his own ok.

The child was silent a moment before finally asking, "How come you weren't here last night? Or this morning when I woke up?"

Clark plodded barefoot into the room just then, standing in the doorway in his pajamas and watching his wife and son. His hair was in his face as he looked up and locked eyes with Lois—she noted how pale, drained and utterly helpless he looked and she hoped the Kryptonite would make it's way out of his system quickly. She made as if to get up and go to him when he held up a hand.

"No, Lois, not yet. I'm still feeling it, right here," he held a hand over his chest, "And we don't know…" his eyes motioned to her stomach and she nodded. "I think it's time we both told him." They turned their attention to Jason.

"Tell me what?" he piped up innocently. Both parents looked at one another again, unsure not only of _how_ to tell him about the impending arrival, but also of how he would _react_ to the news.

Lois cleared her throat. "Jason, you know how your friend Danny has a younger brother and a younger sister?"

"Yes…"

"Well that's because Danny's Mommy and Daddy got together and had two more babies after they had him."

Clark sat down on the other side of his son and interjected, "It started before that though, Jason. You see, Danny's Mommy and Daddy loved each other so much that they wanted to share that love with a baby, and then after Danny was born they decided that they wanted to share that love again with two more babies."

"Mmhmm…"

"And we love you too, Jason," Lois added for reassurance. "We love you _so much_, and now your Daddy and I...well we want to share that love with another baby as well as you."

The boy stared perplexedly at his parents, letting the news sink in. Clark gave Lois a worried glance as he tried to figure out what was going on in his son's mind.

"So you're having a baby?" he asked his mother slowly.

"Yes we are."

He thought about it another moment longer before adding, "Well I hope it's a brother then, because Danny's brother Hunter is fun to play with, but Marie is too little and just spits and cries a lot." Lois started laughing at her son's rationalization and acceptance of the situation.

"So then you're ok about us adding a baby to the family?" Clark asked anxiously.

"Yeah, but only if it's a brother."

"And if it isn't?" Lois questioned him in-between giggles.

Jason just shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to make of a little sister.

Clark brought his son in for a hug. When he released him from his grip, he added, "You know, not all younger siblings are like Hunter. They all start out as tiny babies like Marie and you have to be gentle with them, but once they get older you can play together more."

"_Awwwww maaaaan_! How long will _that_ take?"

"Well let's see," Lois said. "The baby is due in late March and you'll probably be able to play with him or her more when they're bigger and walking, so most likely when they're ten months to a year old."

"But I'll be eight years old by then! That's a long time to wait!"

"It goes by in the blink of an eye," Clark said while looking directly at his wife. "It goes by in the blink of an eye…"

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, November 3, 2008.** Martha returned to Smallville once Clark was well enough to fly her home, and he promised her that he and his family would make the trip out there for Christmas. He and Jason were soon well enough to go back to work and school a bout a day after the incident, and the Lane-Kent household settled once more into it's frenetic semblance of a routine. Both Lois and Clark took the time to inform Perry of the latest expected addition to their family a few days after their Kryptonite scare and he couldn't have been more thrilled…even if he didn't show it in a typical fashion. 

"You're what?!"

"I'm pregnant," Lois said again, positively beaming.

Perry glared at Clark. "And you did this to her?" he asked the smiling man. Clark immediately frowned and gulped audibly before tugging on his shirt collar.

"What do you mean he 'did this to me'? Perry, it's not a thing, it's a baby! And it takes two you know!" Both men got hot under the collar at _that_ comment.

"Look here, it's not like I'm against you two having a larger family it's just…well…darn it, Lois, I lost you for four months after you had Jason and now you're going and adding on another kid! That's an extra four months of losing half of my best reporting team, not to mention that you might not want to come back after the second one! It's tough raising two kids!"

"This coming from a man who's raised how many?" she asked sarcastically, one hand placed rakishly on her hip.

"Believe me, you young 'uns in the bullpen are like my own children and I've raised plenty over the years. It isn't as easy as it looks being Editor-in-Chief you know!"

"Chief, don't think of this as a career…" Clark tried to think of a nice euphemism, "…impediment, think of this as a blessing! You're going to have another great-nephew or niece…" he added, trying to smooth things over.

"Right…right…"

"…and you and I both know Lois; wild horses couldn't keep her away from this bullpen for very long. Not to mention that with two journalists as parents at least one of our kids is bound to continue the reporting tradition; so really we're helping _you_ safeguard the future of the _Daily Planet_ here by providing the talent!"

The older man gave a chuckle from his seat behind the desk and visibly relaxed. "You know you have a point there, Kent." Clark glanced at his wife and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "So, when's the kid due?"

"Late March," Lois replied.

He mulled that over, calculating how much time she had left. "Ok, now this is what I want you two to do. Lois, you take it easy from now until you go on maternity leave…"

"Chief, I'm pregnant, not infirm! I can still do my job!"

"…and Kent, _YOU_ make sure she listens to me."

The young man blushed. "I'll d-do my best, Chief, but you know Lois…"

"Yes, I know Lois, which is why I'm telling you to help me out here!" he said laughing. "Now get out of here, both of you, I have important work to do…" immediately sobering up as he dismissed them from his office. _Those two crazy kids have gone and done it again…who'd have thought?_ he asked himself with a smile as he watched them walk back to their respective desks.

One month after they'd broken the news to Perry, Clark found himself walking past a newsstand on his way to work; he'd been called away during breakfast by an emergency in Maryland and was now making his way to the office alone. The day's top headline leapt off the page as he passed and immediately caught his attention, as it wasn't the one Perry had originally put the paper to bed with the previous evening:

**Appeal Trial for Co-Conspirator in Superman's Abduction to Begin Today**

Without thinking he grabbed the sheet off the rack, handed the man behind the counter a wadded up dollar bill, then proceeded to his office with his nose buried in paper and ink. He walked straight to his desk, completely ignoring his wife, whose eyes went wide upon catching the headline and seeing her husband's ungainly long legs underneath it. Lois quickly strode over to his desk.

"It's Sven," he said, slack-jawed and ashen as he set the paper down before him.

"Clark, are you ok? Who's Sven?"

He put a hand to his head as if he felt a migraine coming on. _How could I have forgotten the promise I made to him?! __**Because you were busy trying to stay alive, it's not your fault.**__ But it is my fault! I told him I'd help him! I made a promise to him!_ Lois roused him out of his own admonishment. "Clark, who is Sven?"

He sighed. "Sven was one of the men that the MPD arrested when they raided the Kryptonite smuggling boat. He's the one that told me everything, from how the crew was hired to how much they hauled in. I told him I'd help him if he cooperated with the Police—he kept up his end of the bargain and now I find out he's been rotting in jail for the last year and a half because I didn't keep up mine!"

Lois looked around to make sure none of their colleagues saw this outburst as she simultaneously took in the news, then pulled up a chair and sat beside him at his desk. "That's not true, Clark! You didn't know! Besides, you were being held prisoner yourself for part of that time, how could he have expected you to help him then!?! You can't beat yourself up over this now, all you can do is make things right."

"But how?"

She quickly scanned the article. "By talking to Sven's attorney, Julie Bishop, that's how. See if she can't have the charges dropped."

"You're right, I'll get right on it," he said in his normal tone of voice, suddenly standing up. "Cover for me when Perry gets here?"

"You know I always do," she replied as he started to loosen his tie. Clark stopped what he was doing and bent down to kiss her.

"I know. It's just one of the perks of marrying you." With that he walked quickly over to the stairwell and disappeared.

* * *

"Miss Bishop, I'm sorry for dropping in on you like this," a man's deep voice intoned from the doorway. 

"Yes, well I'm afraid you'll have to catch me another time, I'm due back in court in half an hour, I just popped in to pick up some briefs," she replied without looking up from her desk. The middle aged public defender was busy stuffing her paperwork in her briefcase and didn't take note of the man paying her a visit.

"This will only take a moment and I can guarantee that you'll make it to the courthouse on time."

"Yeah right. No one can make a guarantee like that and mean it except…" she looked up and caught sight of the Man of Steel standing patiently in her doorway. "…Superman."

"Well then I guess you're going to have to hold me to my word," he said with a nervous chuckle as he stepped further into her office. The neatly dressed woman fell back into her seat, abandoning her task. Her jaw hung open in surprise for a moment, then she firmly clamped it shut and regained her composure, addressing him in a cold and business-like tone.

"I hope you didn't come here to dissuade me from representing my client, because if you did…"

Clark interjected. "Actually, I came here to help you defend him."

For the second time in as many minutes Julie Bishop fell silent. She put a hand to on top of her salt and pepper hair before getting up and pacing the room behind her desk.

"Wait a minute," she said, finally stopping her tedious walk. "Do you mean what you just said? That you want to _help_ Sven Inglarsson?"

"Absolutely. I told him as much in June of last year before…" he stopped short, not wanting to discuss the tragedy that had befallen him. _It's over now, just remember that, it's over… you need to focus now and help this man end his nightmare too._

She cocked her head at him and returned to her chair. "Sven told me that in our first few meetings but I have to admit I was a little reluctant to believe him."

Clark nodded. "As you well know, I wasn't here for his first trial and I've been occupied with other business since my return, so I didn't learn of his appeal until a short while ago. I don't want to press charges; I want him and the others from the boat to go free."

Julie smirked at him. "I'm afraid it's a little late for that," she said, gesturing him toward an empty seat. He brushed aside his cape and sat down opposite her, a frown forming on his lips. "This isn't a personal affair, this is a State matter now and given the scope of the allegations the State is unlikely to suddenly drop such a high profile case."

Clark leaned forward in earnest. "Can't you speak with the judge then? Or maybe you'll allow me to speak with him or her? Or perhaps you could put me on the stand…"

"You mean, call you as a witness?" she asked semi-incredulously.

He looked over at her, perplexed. "Yes, I've done it before."

She shook her head, striking down the idea. "No, I know that, it's just that I…I…" she paused for a moment, trying to corral her wild train of thoughts. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea. The judge may not allow it, not to mention that with the trial proceeding along as rapidly as it is I won't have a chance to sit down and prep you properly…but on the other hand…" the older woman trailed off again in mid-thought, this time with a cat-ate-the-canary grin on her face.

"On the other hand what?" he asked hurriedly, anxious to help.

"I'd love to watch Chuck squirm," she replied in an ominous tone of voice.

"Who's Chuck?"


	77. Chapter 77

_**Metropolis,**_** November 10, 2008. **Public Defender Julie Bishop strode confidently into the courtroom and handed Prosecutor Charles Lichtman a tri-folded sheet of paperwork wrapped in blue cardstock. The man had been sitting on his side of the courtroom with a smug smile on his face, so sure was he that this case would put him on the fast track to the Governor's Mansion once Dunne's term was over, that he took the paper from her with a nonchalant air about him; but upon reading it his mood instantly soured. 

"What the hell kind of stunt are you trying to pull, Julie?" he practically snarled at her from across the aisle.

She shrugged her shoulders and offered a false smile. "I'm sorry, Chuck," she said, watching him wince at the nickname, "But it just happened. And if you'll look closely you'll see that it isn't illegal either."

"Legal or not we'll see if it's admissible in this court," he replied just as the judge walked in. Judge Harold Stern was portly, in his late sixties, and had a head of curly gray hair that bounced as he walked. He climbed up to his seat behind the bench and called the court to order as the bailiffs deposited the Defendant beside his lawyer. Clark watched it all through his perch on the rooftop as he waited to be called to the stand, and he remorsefully took in Sven's gaunt appearance and his sunken eyes with the dark circles underneath them and felt all the more guilty. Julie sat back down and leaned over toward him, patting his arm and trying to reassure him that everything would be alright while the woman to Sven's left translated for them both.

The DA remained standing. "Your Honor, before we resume this trial I would like to object to a late addition to the Defense's Witness list."

"And what is your objection, Councilor?" the Judge asked in a guttural voice.

"Well, Sir…" he glanced behind him at the press contingent present in the courtroom, all of whom were looking at him hungrily. _It won't do to publicly ruin my image like this…_"Actually, Your Honor, may we approach the bench?"

Judge Stern nodded and both lawyers stepped forth for a conference. Clark's eyes flitted over to where Lois sat in the press gallery, having absconded the story from Ralph last week after the news broke. She had a hand placed over her slightly protruding belly and her husband tuned in to the child's heartbeat; it's even, steady rhythm helped calm him down as he waited to take the stand. He turned his head a moment later and re-focused on the whispering lawmen.

"Your Honor, I think it is appalling that she be allowed to call Superman in to testify against a man who aided and abetted in his imprisonment; to drag the victim of this heinous crime to the stand is absolutely shameful! Not only am I concerned for the emotional well-being of the Man of Steel, but I'm also apprehensive about how his presence will effect the trial process. He may very well inadvertently turn this trial into a three ring circus! Not only that, but can the Defense even ensure that Superman will arrive in a timely manner once he is called, or that he will be able to stay once he's sworn in? This trial should not have to be delayed by the schedule of a very busy and diligent hero who has only recently made his return to the City!"

Judge Stern turned to face the Defense. "Mr. Lichtman is making a very good case, Miss Bishop…"

"He would be, Sir, if he weren't so very in the wrong. Your Honor, Superman himself came to me personally and asked to be put on the witness list, and I was as much surprised by this turn of events as my esteemed colleague here; however, I am not going to deny the alleged victim the chance to speak. Also, Superman is presently standing by waiting to be called, so as you can see he has graciously re-arranged _his_ schedule to accommodate _us_."

The Judge nodded in agreement, sending his graying curls flopping down over his forehead, then he turned to address the DA. "I'm afraid she has won the point there, Sir, and I am going to allow him to be called to the stand. Carry on." They retreated back to their respective benches and Julie remained standing, facing the jurors.

"The Defense would like to call it's next witness, Superman, to the stand," she announced, holding her breath and hoping no unforeseen circumstances had called him away. _Please don't ruin my credibility in this courtroom, please don't ruin my credibility in this courtroom, please don't ruin my credibility in this courtroom…_

Just then the Man of Steel opened up one of the back doors and came walking straight down the center aisle toward the front of the room. Julie heard the gasps of awe as the large man, known as a savior the world over, came forward to play his part in this affair. In spite of herself she couldn't help but smile. Superman strode over to the witness stand, glancing at Sven and smiling kindly at him as he took his seat, waiting to be sworn in. The bailiff came forward and asked Clark to place his right hand on the Bible.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"I do," he replied.

"You may sit down," Judge Stern said.

Miss Bishop stood facing the jury gathered on her right before turning and addressing the Man of Steel.

"Superman, if you would please tell the court, when were you first introduced to the Defendant?"

Clark looked directly back at the public defender. "I met the Defendant, Sven Inglarsson, on the afternoon of Tuesday, June 19, 2007."

"And what were the circumstances under which you met Mr. Inglarsson?"

He cleared his throat uncomfortably before responding. "I was called to the Task Force headquarters in Metropolis City Hall by Special Agent Clarissa Woodrow of the FBI. When I arrived she informed me of the suspected drug smuggling raid that had been conducted the previous evening by the Metropolis Police, before telling me that Kryptonite had, in fact, been found aboard. She then brought me into a nearby room where the men who were arrested in connection with the smuggling were being temporarily held by the Task Force. The Special Agent next asked if I would speak to one of the men since they had been unable to find a suitable translator at that time, and I agreed to speak to Mr. Inglarsson; he was escorted by a member of the MPD and brought to another room down the hall for questioning."

Julie nodded and took a few steps around the room before moving on to her next question. "And what would you say your initial reaction was to meeting this man?"

"Contempt. I felt nothing but contempt upon first meeting Mr. Inglarsson," he answered her honestly.

Now it was her turn to swallow hard, and she turned away from him and the jury in order to momentarily regain her composure. Lois sat in the press gallery, hastily scribbling away notes while studying her husband's countenance. She had seen him express strong feelings of displeasure before, but it was an emotion he rarely betrayed and never one he displayed in public; yet there it was, written plainly across his face as he recalled that fateful day.

"Would you please elaborate on that answer for us, Superman?"

"Surely. When I met Mr. Inglarsson, I had just been informed that _at least_ 750 pounds of Kryptonite had been brought into the City under my very nose; we later learned that a figure nearly 20 times that had actually been dredged off the sea floor and safely hidden away. It takes only a fraction of that amount to incapacitate and potentially kill me, so I was less than thrilled by the news when I first heard it, which was shortly before my interview with Mr. Inglarsson. Upon learning of Mr. Inglarsson's involvement in the scheme I became extremely agitated, and verbally projected my frustration onto the man I was told was responsible. I would also like to mention that those feelings soon evaporated once I learned of the true extent of his involvement."

"The _true_ extent of his involvement?"

"Yes, Miss Bishop…you see, Sven and the other members of the crew were hired specifically because they were non-natives of this country who spoke little-to-no English and had no family nearby potentially alerting the authorities about their prolonged absences. They were flying under the radar and searching for the American Dream when someone offered them quick cash to haul in rocks from the sea floor; in short they were duped into helping Lex Luthor and Nick Finneran and had no desire to harm me, let alone anyone else, in the process."

Julie nodded as she moved the line of questioning back toward the June 2007 conversation. "I see. Superman, would you also please tell the court if any promises were exchanged at the time of this meeting between you and the Defendant, and if so, what they were?"

Clark made eye contact with the jurors as he spoke, his compassion for Sven suffusing his countenance. "I asked the Defendant to cooperate with the Metropolis Police once they found a suitable translator for him. I informed him that if he told the authorities everything he knew that they would be much more lenient with him, and that I would try to help him too. That is why I'm here today, to fulfill that promise."

"Thank you," Julie replied before striding confidently back to her seat. She stopped mid-way and turned back, one more question playing upon her lips. "Superman, do you personally feel that Sven Inglarsson _should_ be held responsible for your abduction 14 months ago?"

"No I do not. He was an innocent pawn in Lex Luthor and Nick Finneran's plans and he deserves to go free."

She nodded at him, her face grim and set, then thanked him once more. "The Defense has no further questions for the witness at this time, your Honor." The Judge turned toward the Prosecutor as the young man rose from his chair, walking straight over to the witness stand and placing his hands on the rail, inches away from Clark.

"Were you a witness to the Metropolis Police Department's raid on the suspected smuggling boat the night of June 18, 2007?"

Clark remembered to keep his answers concise. "No, I was not present at the raid on the evening of June 18th of last year."

Charles Lichtman nodded in agreement, then brought his hand up to his chin as though another interesting thought had just popped into his head. "And when did you say you were informed as to the nature of the cargo that was being hauled ashore?"

"I was told about the Kryptonite on the afternoon of June 19, 2007, around 1 in the afternoon by Special Agent Clarissa Woodrow."

"And this same Special Agent brought you into a room full of suspects that had yet to be properly questioned because they could not find suitable translators?"

"That is correct."

"So there were no other translators in the room at the time that you questioned the Defendant?"

"No, there was no one else present in the room save for myself, the Defendant and the Special Agent." Clark resisted the urge to grind his teeth in his head as the man before him continued on with his tedious line of questioning.

The Prosecutor turned about with a grand flourish, addressing the jury and the spectators behind Julie and Sven's heads. "I don't know about you, Superman, but my Dutch is a little rusty," he paused while a few members of the court chuckled at his wit. "So how can we trust that you speak Dutch as well as the man in question? What if you misunderstood part or all of the conversation? How is your testimony here to be corroborated and verified?"

Lois balked outright at the man's implication. _How dare he?!? My husband would__** never**__…_then she recalled his fib to Perry about Jason's parentage and stopped herself short. _Ok, but that was one isolated incident, and he did that to protect us, his family. This is CLARK we're talking about here! He would never do that in a courtroom under oath! How dare that man impugn my husband's honor!_ Clark sat there puzzling out a way to resolve this particular issue satisfactorily when he heard Lois' heart rate spike slightly. He chanced a quick glance at her to which she gave a slight shake of her head before whispering in an almost inaudible voice, "I'm fine."

Mr. Lichtman let a sly smirk cross his face as he watched Superman try to come up with a reasonable solution to the problem he'd laid before him. _Gotcha! This'll teach Julie to make a fool out of me…_

"Excuse me, Mr. Lichtman?" Superman's voice rang out, interrupting the other man's thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Do you approve of the translator that is seated to the left of the Defendant? I mean, do you find that she is a qualified and capable professional who is fluent in the Dutch language?"

"Yes I do."

"Then, begging the court's indulgence," Clark asked innocently, looking up at the round-faced Judge for approval, "I would like to propose a demonstration. I will hold a very brief conversation with the Defendant and relay it back to the court, word for word. The translator may then corroborate or contradict my translation, proving definitively whether or not I understood Mr. Inglarsson correctly when I spoke to him last June."

Mr. Lichtman's eyes bulged slightly at the Man of Steel, then he turned to the Judge to see if he would permit such a display in his court room. "I find this all very interesting," Judge Stern intoned from his perch. "I'm going to allow it."

The DA moved out of the way so that Superman could make eye contact with Sven. Without wasting any time Clark quickly switched to Dutch.

"Sven, I need you to help me help you, can you do that?"

The frightened man simply nodded.

"No, I need you to speak up. That man," he said, gesturing with his hands to the DA, "Does not believe that I can understand you in your own language. Do you see now what I have to do?"

"Yes," he replied quickly, the quaking in his body abating a little at Superman's gentle tone.

"Tell me…" Clark wracked his brain for a moment, "Tell me what you had for dinner last night."

"I had a small chicken cutlet with mashed potatoes, green beans and a glass of water. The cutlet was a little on the dry side…not that I am complaining."

Superman refrained from chuckling and nodded. "Thank you."

"No Sir, thank you…thank you so much for trying, for trying…" and the poor man couldn't help it, he broke down into tears at the display of kindness from the Man of Steel. Miss Bishop tried to console him while still maintaining a professional air.

"It will be alright, Sven…no matter what, it will be alright."

"Your Honor, how much longer are you going to permit this to continue?" Mr. Lichtman asked exasperatedly.

"I'm all finished, your Honor," Clark responded. He then turned and addressed the court stenographer who was methodically plodding away at her keys and relayed the conversation he'd had with the Defendant, verbatim.

The DA then addressed the court-appointed translator. "Can you attest to the veracity of the translation made herein by the Witness?"

She stood up and nodded. "Yes sir; I'd swear to it that he speaks Dutch like a native."

_Well, maybe not like a native…I'd need at least a half an hour's worth of conversation for that_, Clark thought as he tried hard to keep his small victory against the DA under wraps. Lois, on the other hand, was beaming proudly enough for the both of them.

"Very well then, so we now know that you can communicate with the Defendant, but how can you be so sure that he wasn't lying to you that day in City Hall? You must admit that while you are seen as a benevolent figure by many in the world that your physical prowess is still rather intimidating, especially to someone who has been charged with gathering the very substance that can kill you. How can you be so sure that this man didn't lie to your face to protect himself?"

Superman's fist clenched before him on his lap as he stared down at the DA. "Mr. Lichtman, I would like to make one thing very clear; I have _NEVER_ intentionally hurt another living soul, with the exception being during my recent imprisonment, and I would _NEVER_ use my abilities in the manner you've just suggested." Clark closed his eyes and sat there, listening to the court around him collectively hold their breaths at his forceful tone. After he felt sufficiently calmed down he took a sip of water and proceeded to answer the real question. "My auditory powers have made it possible for me to detect sounds not normally registered by the human ear. While I was speaking to Mr. Inglarsson in June of 2007, I used my heightened hearing to key in to his heartbeat as he answered the questions put to him. As any good polygraph analyst will tell you, the heart rate of the subject being tested, in addition to certain visual cues, help to distinguish between the lies and the truths being told. The Defendant's heart rate did not change as he told me his story, indicating that he was not lying; and while I am not a licensed polygraph technician, I have been doing this long enough to accurately tell when someone is withholding information from me and when someone is not."

Charles Lichtman threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, walking away from the witness box. "Your Honor, how are we to validate this assumption? Surely you won't have the Defendant take a polygraph test here in the middle of the courtroom, will you? Or perhaps you'll let the Man of Steel here interview you about your dinner to determine if he can in fact_ hear_ the difference between the truth and a lie?"

"If I may, Sir," Miss Bishop called out, standing up from her seat where a file folder lay open on the desk in front of her. "Exhibit N shows the results of the polygraph test Mr. Inglarsson took two days _after_ he spoke with Superman last year. The transcript clearly shows that the line of questioning taken with the Defendant during the test was almost _identical_ to the line of questioning Superman took with him during the initial interview, and you will see that Mr. Inglarsson's responses to those questions at the time of the polygraph not only match his responses to his interview with the Man of Steel, but they also indicate that he was not lying at that time, either."

The Judge perused the sheets handed to him by the bailiff and nodded his head accordingly. "Mr. Lichtman, I suggest you stop undermining Superman's credibility here as well as cease with the comedy routine and alter your line of questioning. Need I remind you that Superman is _**not**_ the one on trial?"

"No, your Honor, you're right, he is not." The DA turned away and scrunched up his face, trying to determine what new angle to use to support his rapidly thinning case against Sven Inglarsson. In his mind's eye he saw the Governor's seat slipping out of his grasp…

"The Prosecution has no further questions for the Witness at this time, your Honor," he said before settling himself back in his chair. It took every ounce of his strength not to slam the briefcase before him shut in frustration.

Judge Stern turned to the Man of Steel one last time. "Thank you, Superman, you are dismissed."

Clark thanked the Judge before getting up and striding back down the corridor and out into the open lobby of the courthouse, pausing briefly and then speeding up to the roof for some much needed fresh air and sunshine.

* * *

The case against Sven Inglarsson was dropped the following day, as were the pending cases for the other unwitting members of Lex Luthor's smuggling crew. They were released from prison before the month was out. 


	78. Chapter 78

_**Metropolis, **_**February 14, 2009. **Clark had sent Lois home to rest, lingering behind that Saturday night at the _Planet_ to finish up on some research for an article while Jimmy hung around to help. He knew it was supposed to be his and his wife's first Valentine's Day together, and he had been peppering her with romantic gestures throughout the day (as had she), but given that Lois was nearly eight months pregnant she adamantly declared that she was in no mood to "Put on a slinky black dress and be wined and dined, minus the wine." After a bit of discussion they settled on taking Jason out to a movie and spending some quality family time together in honor of the holiday.

It was getting up on 7:30 and Clark was getting frustrated by the work before him, sensing that the pieces ultimately fit together without quite discerning how. Unconsciously he stood up from his desk and rolled back the sleeves of his dress shirt, the blue spandex having been deposited at home due to the heavy aroma of soot that lingered about it, and he put his knuckles down while leaning over the papers strewn before him. Jimmy looked away from his computer search two minutes later and caught sight of his colleague, his eyes going a little wider at what he saw.

The young photographer had never recalled seeing his friend out of a long sleeved shirt and pants before, save for the summer time when he would _occasionally _arrive in the office in a short sleeve top, and that was only when the temperature rose into the triple digits. So to see him standing there now in a semi-relaxed attitude in his work clothes struck Jimmy as wholly new. His eyes traveled down the length of Clark's arms, noting the slight tan that remained on his skin even now, in the middle of winter, before falling upon the long light pink scar on his left forearm.

"Whoa CK!" he exclaimed, pointing. "How'd you get that beauty?"

He looked up from his papers and over at him. "Hm? What was that, Jimmy?"

The photographer sidled up next to Clark and pointed to the scar. "That, how'd you get that?"

Clark looked down at the faded wound, one of only a handful of lingering physical signs of his imprisonment. He stared at the mark intently, the time in his cell with Lex Luthor and the Kryptonite knife instantly coming to mind…_"Nice, huh? A friend of mine made it up for me with some spare alien minerals I happened to have lying around"..."I'm not a terrorist, I'm a criminal GENIUS; the only person I live to terrorize is you, and you're not even __human_". The Man of Steel flinched before reflexively covering the scar, shielding it from view with his large paw. Jimmy looked into his friend's flushed face and saw the flash of panic in his eye; he understood then that the mark had come about over the course of Clark's mysterious seven month disappearance.

"It's just, um, you k-know, um, that is, I-I got it…" he spluttered, hastily rolling down the sleeves of his shirt.

Jimmy looked on sympathetically and placed a reassuring hand gently on Clark's shoulder, who started at the touch. "It's ok, CK. It's ok."

He began to relax, but only slightly, before murmuring, "Thanks."

Jimmy relinquished his hold on him and scrunched up his face in concentration, carefully choosing his next words. "I always forget how hard it's been for you; I mean, I know you've been back ten months now, but being gone all that time must have done something to you on some level, right? And yet you came back in here and picked up right where you left off, acting like the same swell guy we've all known all these years…" Clark smirked in spite of himself at Jimmy's use of his signature adjective, "But something happened to you out there, didn't it? Something bad."

Clark grew solemn again. "Yes, something did."

He nodded at the confirmation. "And I get that you want to deal with it in your own way, but if you ever want to talk about it, just know that I'm here to listen. I may not be much but I've always got your back…you know that, right?"

His face softened at the manly show of compassion, and he clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know." They looked at each other, man to man, communicating with their body language the things men think are too trivial or 'womanly' to be uttered aloud. Clark took his hand back then and they both broke away, choosing instead to stare at the papers on the desk. "You know, I think we better call it a night. Lois and I promised Jason we'd take him to see the new Sky Captain movie …"

"And I have to get back to my place and get ready—I'm meeting someone for drinks later..."

Clark cleverly arched an eyebrow as the photographer moved away from his desk. "Someone, eh? Might this someone be of the female persuasion?" he teased, giving him his classic grin. Jimmy's cheeks grew red and Clark knew he'd hit the mark. "Might Lois or I _know_ this person…?" Just then he heard a shout for help, coming from somewhere off the coast of New England. "Actually Jim, I'll catch up with you later, I just realized I have to go get something." He dashed over to his coat and briefcase. "Have a nice night, bye!"

"Bye!" Jimmy called out as a gush of air flew past and the stairwell door swung open. He looked to find himself alone in the bullpen, then shrugged his shoulders in quick dismissal and collected his belongings before making his way to the elevators.

* * *

"What'd you think, Dad? Huh? What'd you think? Wasn't it cool when Sky Captain and Tornado Tom went tumbling down the mountain like that?! They were all like, 'ARRRRR, I'm going to get you!' and grabbing at each other's throats and stuff as they rolled down, and it was cool, right?! Wasn't it SO cool?!" Jason cried out excitedly in the back of the cab as the Kent family made their way home.

"Yes, Son, it was very cool…for a make-believe movie," he replied, emphasizing the point for his impressionable and super-powered boy. Lois sat next to him and nodded in agreement, squeezing her husband's hand lovingly.

He was about to resume his aimless staring out the window of the cab when he heard a soft but firm voice say, "Superman, I know you can hear me, and we could _really_ use your help in the alleyway between East Grand and 5th. Please hurry." He cocked his head in recognition…_Was that…? No, it couldn't be—she isn't in Metropolis, is she?_ "Honey, do you know if Chloe's in town? She hasn't tried to call you or anything, has she?" Clark asked his wife suddenly.

Lois shook her head. "No, but then again I haven't had a chance to talk to her in a few weeks, why?"

"Umm…driver, can you stop the cab please?" he called out nervously. Clark pulled out his billfold and handed some money to his wife. "I, uh…forgot to get that thing…"

She knew what he was up to and looked out the car, seeing the lights on the sign of the all-night pharmacy on the corner. "Right! Your medication! That's ok, we'll get home safe, you go take care of…things." He smiled at her before shutting the door and running down the street to handle this latest emergency.

* * *

_**Three hours earlier.**_ Jimmy and his date had agreed to meet at O'Malley's Pub on Cambridge Street for appetizers and drinks around 8:30 that evening, and he now sat by himself at a high table and stool, fidgeting with the pretzels before him in the bowl. She waltzed in the door at 8:32 and he caught sight of her before she spotted him, allowing him a moment of unadulterated pleasure as his eyes lingered on her glowing face. Chloe was wearing a long black jacket over the blue dress she'd purchased in Smallville with Lois last spring, and when she slipped the jacket down off her shoulders he positively swooned. _That woman radiates beauty, _Jimmy thought to himself, _And I can't believe that of all the guys she could have called she called me._

He jerked his chair back with a loud screech and her green eyes locked with his. _So much for suave and debonair there Jimbo!_ he mentally berated himself as he moved behind her chair to pull it out for her. Chloe sidled over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Jim, how are you?"

"I'm f-fine. B-better than fine actually. How are you?" _Ok, __just__ because she's from Smallville doesn't mean I have to start imitating Clark now…_

"I'm good. Hey, thanks for suggesting this place for our date, it looks great."

"Well I know of no finer pub in the Metropolis area to take a special woman out to on a date—that, and I'm afraid a photographer's budget only takes him so far, you know?" he said with a small nervous laugh. _D'oh! Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

But she laughed genuinely in return, and Jimmy stole a look at her from across the table. "I hear you! You'd think as an editor of a newspaper I'd be raking in the dough too, but I've said it before and I'll say again, they don't call it Smallville for nothing." They both chuckled at that, erasing the slight awkwardness that surrounded their first face-to-face encounter since Lois and Clark's wedding. _Sure, we've exchanged e-mails and phone calls and I think she's wonderful, but does she really think of me as more than a friend or am I building this all up in my head?_

The pair of them sat at their table in the pub talking until late into the evening…"And then, the guy interviewing me at the 'Metropolan News Magazine', had the gall to ask me out on a date after grilling me for two hours! His exact words were, 'Come on, Baby, you can't be alone in a big city like this on Valentine's Day'. I mean, HONESTLY!! What was he thinking? I want the job but EWWW!!" she said, throwing her hands in the air emphatically.

"Now I KNOW you didn't just let him get away with that," Jimmy responded, a little tipsily while straining to hear the end of the story above the surrounding din.

"You're darn right I didn't!" Chloe cried out, puffing herself up. She too had been enjoying a few drinks, just like her companion. "I turned around and I told him, I told him…" she jammed a finger into the table as if it were the man's chest, "'Sir, I am not going to jeopardize my chances of working at this magazine by going out to dinner with you—you would be my superior! Besides, I saw you slip that wedding band off your finger the instant I walked in the door not two hours ago, now good day!' And then I stormed out."

"Whoa-ho-ho, good for you!!" He took a final sip of his beer before sighing longingly. "Man do I wish I could stick up to somebody like that…"

She leaned over the table and grazed her fingers along his free hand. "I'm sure if push came to shove Jimmy you could stick up to any man, and I do mean any." He stared up from his glass and back at her in awe—no one had ever given him such a vote of confidence before, or looked at him with such tenderness in their eyes…he wondered if this was what falling in love felt like.

Just then Chloe let out an unintentional yawn and he perked up. "I think maybe we should be getting you back to your hotel now," he offered, standing up and giving her his hand. She blushed shamefully.

"I'm sorry, I...I…" she let out another small yawn. "It's been such a long day, what with the early flight and the interview and everything…"

"Not to mention the three Cosmopolitans you had…"

"Yeah, and I think I'm just a _little_ on the tired side," she finished, hopping down from the chair and slipping her arms into the coat he held out for her. Turning around suddenly she looked him straight in the eye. "But I don't want this night to end."

Jimmy stopped mid-way through putting on his own coat and stared at her. Years later, when asked about his thoughts and feelings on the subject of love, he would always point to this exact moment as the one where Cupid struck him through the heart with his golden arrow.

An uncharacteristically charming and smooth James Olsen began to emerge. "Well how about I walk you back to your hotel as opposed to calling you a cab? It's only a few blocks from here." And with a smile spread proudly across his face he led her to the doorway and out into the crisp February night.

* * *

The pair was halfway to their destination, Chloe resting her head comfortably on Jimmy's shoulder as they chatted away, when they were first accosted by the mugger. A wiry young man had been coming towards them on the sidewalk, and as Jimmy moved off to the side to avoid a collision the other person pulled out a gun, stopping the lovebirds in their tracks. The cold had done much to sober Jimmy up, and he now pushed Chloe protectively behind him while the other person waved the gun about.

"Get back in the alley," he snarled, maneuvering around them in order to force them in that direction.

"Look man, we don't want any trouble," the _Daily Planet_ photographer stated calmly but firmly, hands up by his sides. "Just take what you want and leave us alone."

"Yeah that's right, I WILL take what I want." The man kept moving them further down the alley, away from help and away from any potential witnesses.


	79. Chapter 79

_**Metropolis,**_** February 14, 2009. **Now Chloe had been a little more exhausted and a little less inebriated than she'd let on, but the minute the gun was pulled out the adrenaline started coursing through her body and her mind raced for a solution. While Jimmy was being a great protector she knew exactly who to call for help in the presence of a gun; her friend and former rescuer, Clark Kent. Keeping a cool head as her heart pounded wildly in her ears, she said in the softest voice possible, "Superman, I know you can hear me, and we could _really_ use your help in the alleyway between East Grand and 5th. Please hurry." She clutched tightly to the back of Jimmy's jacket, waiting for more help to arrive.

The trio was sufficiently backed down the alleyway to prevent possible detection from passers-by when the thief reached forward toward his victim's jacket pocket, searching for a wallet. Jimmy hated what this man was about to get away with, hated how he was robbing him of his dignity, but he knew it wasn't worth risking both their lives over a fistful of dollars and two credit cards while the man had a weapon in his hands. His eyes shrunk into hard narrow slits as he clenched his jaw, willing his anger to go unanswered—his companion, however, had other ideas.

The gunman unwittingly lowered his weapon to his side in order to better lean in in search of cash. Chloe seized the opportunity, squeezing Jimmy's shoulder in warning before kicking the robber hard in his right wrist; the young photographer didn't wait for further invitation, springing into action and clocking the man across the jaw. The would-be mugger was sent sprawling unconscious to the pavement below.

"Is everyone alright?" Superman asked as he landed a few feet away from the fallen man. He watched as Jimmy shook the stinging sensation out of his left hand while Chloe fussed over him, completely oblivious to the superhero's presence.

"Huh?" he looked up, startled, before realizing that the Man of Steel had joined them. "Oh hey, Superman! Um yeah, I think we're alright…are you sure you're ok?" he asked, his thoughts focused only on Chloe and her well-being.

"I'm fine, but don't you think you should get that hand looked at? You hit him pretty hard." She shot Clark a look.

As if on cue he x-rayed the appendage in question. "Nothing appears to be broken, Mr. Olsen; I'm sure you'll live to photograph for many more days to come." He gave them both his patented Superman smile before looking down and realizing that the mugger was coming back around. "If you folks will excuse me, I'll just go take care of this garbage…" and he lifted the man up effortlessly with one arm while raising the other toward the sky, just before take-off. They both looked up after his retreating form.

"Wow, good thing he was around, huh?" Jimmy stated, looking back down at his date. Chloe held a finger to his lips to silence him.

"Superman wasn't the hero tonight, Jim. You were."

At her words he grew braver still, leaning in and kissing her fervently on the mouth as they stood in the middle of the newly emptied alleyway.

Chloe's head was spinning when their lips finally parted. "Wha—what—whoa…" She felt incredibly light-headed and put a hand on his shoulder to steady her teetering frame.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I figured I ought to try now, before I lost the nerve. If you want to slap me for taking liberties I'll understand," he spit out, wincing his eyes shut in anticipation of the expected blow.

She stood before him, one hand held rakishly on her hip, the other still clasped on his shoulder. "Just because I'm from the Midwest doesn't mean we don't kiss on the first date," she said as she leaned in to kiss him once more, intensifying the passion they'd shared a second earlier. She broke it off abruptly, however, leaving him in mid-pucker. "And 'taking liberties'? Really?" He shrugged his shoulders in response. "Man you _have_ been hanging around Clark way too much…" She started to giggle before he took her in his arms once more.

It was another twenty five minutes before they finally parted ways in front of her hotel.

* * *

An hour later Clark spun into his pajama pants and crept into bed, but not before looking in on his slumbering son to ensure that all was well in the house. As he slipped under the covers he put an arm protectively around his wife's swelling belly and she pulled at him instantly, his body heat warming the slight chill she always felt in the bed in the wake of his absence; it wasn't until a few moments later that Lois actually registered his return.

Turning over gently to face him, she watched him fake a deep sleep, then wiped the hair out of his eyes with a loving hand. "So where did you really have to go?" she asked. He lay still, eyes shut. "And why did you ask me about Chloe?" One blue eye finally popped open.

Seeing that she wouldn't go back to sleep until her curiosity had been satiated he opened both eyes and ran his warm hand up and down her arm. "First I picked up after an attempted mugging and then I stopped a bank robbery in Germany, all before continuing my usual fly-by…"

"Just another relatively quiet night on planet Earth then," she said with a slight chuckle, repeating his oft-stated phrase. Clark propped himself up a little higher in bed.

"Actually—something else _did_ happen this evening."

"Oh?" she asked interestedly, arching an eyebrow at him. "And does it happen to involve our favorite Midwestern newspaper editor?"

He nodded. "It does indeed. I stopped off by her hotel room."

"Her hotel room? Then does that mean…?"

"Yep, she's in Metropolis. Oh, and I'm pretty sure she's dating Jimmy."

"She snuck into town and didn't call us? Darn her!" He watched in amusement as his wife was about to launch into a tirade. "Wait, did you say she was dating Jimmy? As in our Jimmy? Jimmy Olsen?"

"The one and only."

He watched the myriad number of changes that swept across her face: surprise, dismissal, contemplation, and then…"But she's not the type of girl to fall for a guy like that! He's Perry's whipping boy for crying out loud!"

Clark let out a sigh. "You'd be surprised, Lois. He's more a man than you take him for…" He then relayed the night's events, leading with the comments about the Kryptonite knife wound and ending with what transpired in the alleyway. "He knocked the guy out too, and in just one punch."

"Oh my gosh, is he ok?! His hand…"

"His hand is fine. Chloe asked me pretty much the same thing when I arrived so I x-rayed it and there were no broken bones. I'm sure it'll hurt like hell for the next couple days but he'll still be able to work his camera."

"Wow…I never knew he had it in him," Lois said in awe.

"Yeah, well, it's the quiet ones that always surprise you," he told her, giving her a knowing look.

"Ha ha, very funny you…" She trailed off as he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead just before she let out a yawn. "Alright, I'm going back to sleep—but Chloe better call or come over and explain herself or I'll never forgive…" Lois rolled back over on her other side, not bothering to finish her thought.

"I'm sure she will, just don't expect her for lunch."

"Uh huh," his wife replied drowsily.

Clark waited a few moments, listening to her steady, even breathing along with the beating of the baby's heart. "Hey Lois?" She garbled unintelligibly, causing him to smile. He moved the hair away and kissed the sweet spot between her neck and her shoulder, sending an electrifying charge through her. "Happy Valentine's Day."


	80. Chapter 80

**A/N: **It's birthday time! It doesn't get _too_ graphic, but if you don't want to hear about the birth itself then I suggest you don't read the parts contained in the second and fourth breaks in the chapter, that way you'll avoid the potentially icky parts but without missing the _important_ news. I know this moment has been a long time coming, so I hope you'll sit back and enjoy it!

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, March 29, 2009, 4:38 AM.** "Clark!" his wife's voice rang out to him clear as a bell, as opposed to the half a City that lay between them. He was four miles away and flying swiftly through the night, holding onto a jewel thief in each hand while making a bee-line for the nearest police station. He paused abruptly in mid-air when he heard her call to him and rolled his eyes, then hung his head resignedly and continued on his course; the would-be robbers noticed him slacken his pace a bit before dropping them off with the authorities.

The Man of Steel flew in through the window of their living room some ten minutes later, spinning out of the suit and back into his everyday clothes, before silently making his way to the bedroom. As much as Clark loved her, Lois had been driving him crazy since the Chief ordered her out of the bullpen on mandatory maternity leave. What prompted Perry to dismiss her was when he caught video footage of Lois at a press conference four weeks earlier, waddling up to Senator Balme's podium ready to pounce on him with her questions.

"You looked like a boulder rolling down a wooded hillside! You were knocking down everyone and everything in your path!" Perry bellowed after she'd gotten herself seated in his office. Clark looked on next to her sympathetically.

"Honestly, Perry, you're exaggerating! It wasn't that bad!"

"Oh no? Take a look." He re-wound the tape on his personal TV. The scene showed Lois pushing forward again and her stomach lurched out, hitting Jane Cho in the elbow and knocking her off-balance, sending her flying. The pregnant reporter ignored her fallen rival in print and kept on bombarding the Senator with questions, scribbling away. "That, THAT is what I'm talking about _right there_!"

Lois shrugged her shoulders unsympathetically. "Jane slipped, it happens."

"Um, Honey, actually …" her husband started to interject.

"Not now, Clark."

"Not now, Kent."

"Look, Chief, I can still do my job! My mind and my fingers work perfectly well, it's just the rest of me that's expanding!" she exclaimed, pointing to her abdomen as if her argument needed further proof.

"I know and I don't care, you should have been on leave the day before yesterday. Now go home!" he said emphatically, standing up and pointing to the door. Clark got up and helped heft a fuming Lois out of her seat, guiding her to the door as she cursed and muttered under her breath. "And Kent!"

The young man wheeled around, wide-eyed. "Yes, Chief?"

"Make sure that she listens to me!"

Clark coughed non-committally, squirming under the penetrating gazes of both his boss and his wife in the middle of the office floor. Lois huffed and walked back to her cubicle to collect her belongings while Perry sat back down and went to work.

Now, one month later, Clark took a deep breath before pushing open the door and walking into the bedroom, bracing himself to face his hormonal wife. But instead of finding her propped up in bed demanding strawberry gelato and pickles he saw Lois standing next to the bureau buttoning up her maternity blouse.

"You called?" he asked suspiciously, trying to gauge what kind of mood she was in and wondering where she thought she was going at quarter to five in the morning.

"Yes I did." She gave him no further response and he just stared at her blankly. Finally, she turned to face him with a smirk on her face and said, "It's time."

Lois studied his face. He stood in the doorway in his Met. U. sweatshirt and jeans and stared back at her while cocking his head to one side, looking extremely perplexed by her last statement. _This man…He can make life and death decisions in the time it takes me to snap my fingers, but he can't figure out for the life of him what I'm talking about. _So she tried again.

"Clark? _It's time_."

"Time?" he asked. She nodded. _Time? What time? Time, time, time… _His mouth fell open in shock as the realization dawned on him and he loudly blurted out "TIME! Oh my gosh, ok, the important thing here is NOT to panic; I'll go get the suitcase…" he exclaimed, zipping over to the side of the room where it had sat packed for the last week, only now the bag was conspicuously absent.

Lois held the luggage aloft. "Looking for this?" she asked coyly.

"Ha ha, very funny, now we have to go get Jason up and dressed, then we need to call my Mom at the hotel and your parents and have them meet us at the hospital…"

"I'm ready," the little boy replied sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he stood fully dressed in the doorway.

"And I've already called our folks," she informed him.

Clark chuckled at his nervousness over the impending birth. "Is there _anything_ you need my help with here then, or do you just want to call me from the hospital to tell me if it's a boy or a girl?"

"Well I could use a ride, seeing as how I stopped fitting behind the steering wheel about three months ago," Lois replied smartly as he strode over to take her suitcase from her. She kissed him on the cheek as he bent down.

"Right! The car…"

The pair ushered Jason out of the room toward the front hall closet where they collected their jackets and keys before heading to the hospital.

* * *

**10:21 AM.** Lois' earlier composure back in their apartment had abated as the contractions were coming on more and more frequently. Clark, meanwhile, had changed into the hospital scrubs he'd been given and stayed calm as could be, sitting patiently by her side. He urged her to breathe as they'd been instructed to do in Lamaze class while letting her use his hand for support.

"Honey, just breathe; you're doing great, just keep breathing…"

"Don't…URRGH!...Honey me!" she started to say in mid-contraction hit. "It's your fault I'm…ACH!!...here in the first place!"

A nurse standing on the other side of the bed monitoring the baby's heartbeat let out a low chuckle as she glanced over at the expectant parents. She caught sight of Lois' grip squeezing Clark's hand so tightly her fingers were turning purple, while he looked as if he barely felt anything at all. The woman looked up into Clark's open face and he caught her quizzical expression out of his peripheral vision; he made sure to fake a wince as his wife squeezed extra tight during the next contraction.

"Alright everyone, are we ready to have a baby here?" Doctor Morin asked cheerily as she entered the room. The nurse held open a sterile blue gown which the doctor easily slipped her arms through, then snapped the latex gloves over her hands. After checking Lois for the umpteenth time she looked up and said, "Ok Mrs. Lane-Kent, I want you to push with the next contraction and hold it for ten seconds, can you do that?" Lois nodded. "Good, now here it comes. Ready? Push!"

* * *

**10:24 AM.** "So Jason," his Grandma Ella started to ask as she balanced the boy on her knee. "Still want a baby brother?"

"Uh huh." He kept playing with the Sky Captain figurine in his hands.

Martha piped up next to them. "But there's still a chance it'll be a girl, so what will you do then?" The General stalked up and down the room, watching the exchange, while Perry and Jimmy sat on the opposite side of the room, pausing in the midst of their shop talk to listen to Jason's response.

"I dunno…" he replied. Then, thinking about it for a moment, he recalled the window his grandparents had shown him earlier of all the newborn babies, and saw them pointing out where his younger sibling would be in a matter of hours or minutes. "Can I exchange it?"

Ella started violently, as did Perry. Martha just laughed hysterically while Jimmy coughed uncomfortably and the General oversaw the whole discussion. "What?!" Ella finally asked.

"Jason," Martha managed to spit out in-between gasps for air, "Where on Earth did you get an idea like that?"

"From the window," he replied matter-of-factly. "It looks like the one in the pet store down the street from us, only here they have lots of babies instead of puppies, so I thought that maybe someone who wanted a girl baby could go there and if Mom and Dad have a girl baby they could go and trade her there and get a brother for me."

"Sweetheart, it doesn't work like that," Ella started to explain to him seriously as Martha renewed her laughter with Perry and Jimmy joining her, the tears pouring down all their faces. Even the General had a smile on his normally reserved countenance and once his wife finished detailing the purpose of the windowed room containing the newborns he stepped over to his grandson.

"Come with me young man," he intoned, holding out a hand. Jason got off his grandmother's lap and took the outstretched hand.

"Sam, where are you two going? The baby could be born any minute now!"

"And we're going on official baby business," he said to his wife seriously while winking slyly at Jason. "Don't worry, we won't be gone long." And with that curt dismissal they left the waiting area and headed for the elevators.

* * *

**11:38 AM.** "I CAN'T!" Lois exclaimed, sweaty and exhausted, as she fell back in a heap on her pillow. "I just, I can't!" she said again, imploring Clark with her eyes to make the pain stop.

He looked back at her sympathetically, all the while feeling wretched and miserable inside. _Perry's right, I did this to her…She's in so much pain and there's nothing I can do to help her, oh God…_

"Mrs. Kent, the baby's almost here, just a few more pushes and it'll all be over," Dr. Morin informed her.

Lois looked down at her doctor, panting heavily. "I can't, I just, I can't, I…"

"Ok, ok…" the doctor said soothingly before getting up and shooting a look at Clark. They moved a little ways away from the bed and huddled in conference. She spoke to him in a low whisper, "If your wife doesn't start pushing soon we're going to have a problem. We can't do a C-section at this stage of the game, and if the baby isn't delivered within the next couple of minutes it might not make it. I need you to get her to push, Mr. Kent. I know she's tired, and I know you can't stand seeing her like this, but she has _**got to push**_."

Clark nodded his head solemnly at the woman, trying not to let Lois see how grave his face had become. A second later he turned around to face his wife, stepping forward and taking her hand in his grip. "Lois Lane-Kent, you are not a quitter," he told her sternly.

"But I can't, I'm so tired…" she whimpered, her hair matted to her forehead and her hazel eyes clouded over in confusion and pain.

"I know and as soon as the baby is out I'll let you rest for three days straight if you want to, but Honey, you need to push," he said again just as forcefully. She scrunched up her face as another contraction came and shook her head no, straining to look away from him. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before changing tactics.

"Fine, don't push." Dr. Morin's mouth dropped open in shock as she waited at the other end of the bed. "We'll just wait until the contractions stop and go home. Of course, Perry won't let you back in the bullpen when you're still as pregnant as you are, which means no more investigations, no more press conferences, no more by-lines on the front page of the _Planet_. Oh yeah, and no more coffee, ever. But of course, if you're tired, you're tired. So…" He knew the explanation coming out of his mouth was a stretch, but Clark held his breath, hoping his comments would rouse her enough to resume labor.

Lois shot daggers at him with her eyes, the sweat gleaming on her brow only serving to heighten her threatening glance. "You wouldn't dare get me fired…"

He faked a look of innocence. "Me? Noooo…_you'd_ get _yourself_ fired for being a physical threat to every other journalist in Metropolis."

She clenched down on her teeth, hard. "Ok, I'm ready," she said to the waiting doctor. "And it's Lane-Kent, _if you don't mind_. My mother-in-law is…" She gritted her teeth in pain before finishing, "Down the hall."

Dr. Morin simply nodded at the changed and determined woman in front of her before ordering her to push.

* * *

**11:57 AM. **Perry joined the General in pacing back and forth across the room, while Jimmy kept Jason entertained by coloring with him in the opposite corner from where the two older women were sitting. The young boy was sporting a t-shirt over his regular shirt that read "I'm the Big Brother" while keeping a close eye on a large gift bag he and his Grandpa had brought with them when they returned to the room.

"Whatcha got there, Jason?" Jimmy asked interestedly when the pair re-entered the waiting area. The boy clutched it closer.

"It's a gift for my baby brother," he replied, not wanting to share the specific information with anyone. Sam Lane gave him a look. "Or sister," he hastened to add.

Martha took a sip from her foam cup of vending machine coffee before turning to Ella. "How much longer do you think it'll take?" she asked anxiously, worrying for the safety of both mother and child.

The other woman just shrugged her shoulders. "She was in labor for five hours with Jason, but with the second child it's always hard to say. Lois took ten hours, whereas Lucy came out before I barely had a chance to register I was in labor; it varies so from child to child."

Martha let out another sigh and put the cup down as the door to the waiting room opened. Clark stepped into the room standing tall in his blue green scrubs, his face positively beaming.

"DAD!" Jason cried out, running over to his father. Clark scooped his son up and held him close, kissing him squarely on each cheek before straddling him on his hip so he could properly face everyone else in the room. He was so overwhelmed with joy that the sensation rendered him temporarily mute.

"Well?!" Perry finally asked.

Clark's grin intensified. "Ten fingers, ten toes, 21 inches long, 8 pounds, 4 ounces, with Lois' hair and my eyes." He paused for effect as they all leaned forward, "It's a girl!" The room broke out in shouts at the news and Martha and Ella each came over to kiss him while Jimmy and Sam pumped his hand in congratulation. Perry opened up a box of chocolate cigars and started handing them around, grumbling about the hospital's no smoking policy while simultaneously beaming at the good news.

"And Lois? How's she doing?" Ella asked worriedly.

"She's resting. The last thirty minutes were really hard on her, and after she got to hold the baby and we agreed on a name she went right to sleep."

Jason piped up. "Can I go see Mommy even though she's sleeping? I promise I'll be quiet."

"Not now, Buddy, she needs her rest, but I promise I'll take you to her in a couple of hours."

"Ok," he replied, somewhat resignedly.

"So CK, what'd you and Lois name your daughter?" Jimmy inquired.

The innocuous question served to further his grin. _Our daughter…We have a daughter! _He shook himself out of his starry-eyed trance before responding, "We named her Haley Martha Kent."

Now his mother really couldn't stop the joyful tears in her eyes and a salty drop slid down each cheek at this special tribute to her. "Oh Clark," she said softly, looking up into his happy face and thanking him with her eyes. He wrapped his free arm around her and squeezed her shoulder just a bit, the tears brimming in his azure eyes as well.

He turned his attention back to his son. "Do you want to go see your little sister, Kiddo?" The boy nodded vigorously and Clark carried him out of the room, leading the whole band of them over to the viewing window. The nurse inside saw his scrubs and mad grin and knew he was a new papa, and she wandered over to inquire which one of the infants was his. "Kent," he said proudly, pointing to the child in the bassinet in the third row, second from the left.

The nurse wheeled the infant over so everyone could have a better look and Haley stared wide-eyed at all those who came together to welcome her into the world.

"My God," Perry said, inhaling sharply as he saw his grand-niece for the first time. "If her eyes were any lighter blue they'd be almost invisible."

"You know, Chief," Jimmy piped up as he looked the infant over, "They say that a baby's eye color changes a lot in the first month after birth. At least, I think I read that somewhere. Anyhow, they'll probably get darker after a time. Maybe they'll even turn Lois' color, you never know."

"Somehow I doubt that, James," Martha interceded. "After all, just look at the eyes of her father and brother."

"Oh yeah, right."

The General turned around to face his son-in-law. "You did good, Son, you did real good."

Clark's smile threatened to encompass the whole of his face as he looked around at the assembled members of his family.

* * *

**4:16 PM.** The group returned late to the hospital after a celebratory lunch out and Clark now stood in his wife's room facing the firing squad. "Did you really threaten me with the loss of my job if I didn't have the baby, or am I just imagining that?"

"Well…" he started to say, looking down guiltily at the floor while rubbing the back of his head.

"Clark Kent, you didn't!"

"You didn't leave me much choice, Lois! Dr. Morin said you had to push, or else…" He shuddered to think what would have happened to their daughter if Lois wasn't able to go through with the birth.

"And badgering me after how much labor was the best course of action?" she asked, using the Mad Dog Lane-Kent voice she usually saved for addressing dirty politicians.

"Uh…"

"Who wants to see their little girl?!" the young nurse called out in a cheery tone as she wheeled the sleeping infant in. _Saved by the baby, _Clark thought as he sighed, smiling over the newborn that was pushed past him. Lois instantly melted at the sight of her daughter, now cleaned and swaddled and wearing a pink knit cap that matched her rosy complexion. She held out her arms eagerly.

The woman placed baby Haley in her arms while Clark stood by the partially open door, watching the bond between mother and daughter being forged and not wanting to tear himself away for an instant, even when he knew he had to. "I'm going to go get Jason so he can meet his new sister face-to-face," he told her, standing half-in and half-out of the door. The nurse brushed past him, saying she'd be back in twenty minutes to collect her ward. Lois nodded, only half-listening to what her husband and the nurse were saying, so completely enamored of her daughter was she.

Clark coughed and she finally looked up at him. "Um, Honey?" he called out to her, then pointed down the hall. "Jason?"

"Oh right! Clark, where is he? He should be meeting his new little sister…" All he could do was smile as his wife repeated his sentiment from a second before. "Wait, he's with our folks, right?"

"Uh huh, and Perry and Jimmy too."

"Tell them to give us five minutes alone and then come on in."

"Are you sure? You're not too tired?"

"Now is as good a time as any," she replied, shrugging her shoulders slightly. He made another move out the door when she called to him again. "How's my hair look?" she asked, suddenly nervous at the prospect of so many visitors traipsing through her room when she felt she wasn't looking her best.

Clark stared at her in her blue hospital gown propped up against the white sheets of the bed, holding the precious little bundle of joy that was their new child. "I don't think I've ever seen you look more beautiful," he told her truthfully. She blushed deeply at the compliment before turning to coo some more at the baby as he retreated from the room.

Jason came walking in slowly, followed by his father, clutching the gift bag while staring wide eyed at the new surroundings and all the equipment. Lois smiled even wider at the sight of her firstborn and beckoned him over to the bedside. "Come say hello to your new baby sister…"

He walked over deliberately, peering into the face of his sleeping sibling with great curiosity. After scrutinizing her closely he said, "Hi Haley, I'm your big brother Jason. You have a pretty name."

Lois looked over at him as he caught her eye and she leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. As she drew back she asked, "So you really like her name, Jason?"

"Uh-huh."

"And you don't mind that she's a girl and not a boy?"

"I guess not," he said matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders. "Grandma Ella told me we couldn't trade her in with one of the babies in the window and Grandpa Sam had a talk with me so I guess I don't have much choice." Lois and Clark both let out a soft laugh.

"Son, why don't you climb on top of the bed on the other side of your Mother so we can get a picture? And remember, be gentle just like we talked about, ok?"

He nodded solemnly and made to move around the bed before stopping himself. "I almost forgot! Grandpa helped me get this but I picked it out all by myself for you, Haley. His name is Bobo." He pulled the teddy bear out of the bag and held it in front of her just as she opened her eyes. Lois gasped as she truly registered the depths of their daughters' cerulean orbs; they were almost miniature identicals of her father's and brother's, if only in a lighter shade.

"Oh Clark!" she said softly, in complete and utter awe.

"I know." Their eyes locked in wonderment over their newest miracle while Jason put the toy down on a chair and climbed on top of the hospital bed, placing a hand lightly on his sister's head.

"Ok you three, look this way and smile. Ready? 1…2…3!" he pushed the button on his wife's trademark disposable camera, commemorating that moment forever not only on film but also in his mind's eye.

The door opened just then and a batch of well-meaning but impatient relatives and friends burst in to fill the space. "I know you asked for five minutes, Son, but we just couldn't wait," Martha said, placing a hand on his forearm before catching sight of Lois, Jason and Haley in the bed. "Oh my Lord she's an angel! And Lois, Dear, I've never seen you look lovelier."

"Thank you," she replied while holding the baby upright a little more as Ella and the General came over to inspect their newest grandchild.

Sam placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You're one tough soldier, Lo. You did good."

"Thanks, Dad," she replied, giving his hand a small squeeze.

"Honey, she's absolutely beautiful! Oh I haven't seen a prettier baby since you were born," Ella said in awe of her only granddaughter.

Lois blushed again. "Aww, thanks Mom."

While this exchange was going on Jimmy had been quietly setting up his tripod and camera along the wall opposite Lois' bed. "Ahem," he coughed, trying to get them to look his way; but they were all too wrapped up in the baby to pay him any mind. "AHEM!" he tried louder, drawing several glares his way. "If I uh, if I can, that is, if you'll all just give me your attention for one minute, I'd like to get a picture of the proud parents and the big brother, and then a group shot if you'd all like."

"That'd be great, Jimmy, thanks," Clark said, clapping him on the back of his shoulder.

"No problem, it's my pleasure."

The older people in the room cleared away from the bed and Clark pulled up a chair alongside his son while Lois propped the baby up to face the camera.

"Now on the count of 3, everyone say 'Happy Birthday', ready? 1…2…3!" The flash went off, momentarily blinding them all before Jimmy came over to set up the next shot.

"CK, why don't you hold the baby, and Chief if you'll just stand over here next to Mrs. Kent, and General and Mrs. Lane, if you'll follow me over here…" he said, quickly re-positioning them all. Once everyone was in frame he jumped back behind the camera. His finger was on the shutter when Clark called out to him.

"Don't you have a timer on that thing?" the proud father asked of his friend.

"Yeah of course, why?"

Lois picked up the ball. "Because you need to be in the photo too!"

The young photographers' cheeks flushed red. "Aww, no thanks guys, this is a family shot," he replied, brushing off their attempts to include him.

"James," Martha called out to him quietly but firmly. "As far as we're all concerned _you are family_. Now get over here!" He looked up from behind his camera again and smiled at Mrs. Kent's words—he'd always thought of his co-workers and friends from the _Planet_ as his extended family and it was nice to know that they truly felt the same way and weren't just inviting him for the sake of being polite. Jimmy set the timer for ten seconds and hurriedly crouched down at the foot of Lois' bed, still grinning.

* * *

Shortly thereafter that photograph graced the interior of the lead and glass picture frame on Clark's desk at work, where it was proudly displayed for all who passed by his cubicle to see.


	81. Chapter 81

_**Smallville, KS, **_**July 1, 2009. **Superman stood solemnly in the Smallville Cemetery, careful lest he be seen by anyone while he stood at the foot of the grave that would betray the truth of his alter-ego.

Clark wiped a lone tear from his eye as he spoke softly into the air, then he reached down the neck of his suit and pulled out a slightly worn photograph. Bending down, he placed it between a rock and the headstone, running a finger over it before releasing it from his loving grasp. It was a picture of him with Lois, Jason and Haley, taken one month earlier.

"Sorry about the picture, Dad—this suit doesn't have any pockets or anything," he said with chuckle. "That picture there came from one that our friend Jimmy gave us. Did you know he's dating Chloe now? Yeah, she got a job back in Metropolis this past May. It's been nice having her around again, kind of like old times. I'm glad she's with Jimmy too. I couldn't have picked a nicer guy for her even if she'd let me.

"Lois and I have been married for a year now; it's surprising how fast it went, I know. Seems like only yesterday I flew over to tell you I was engaged." He smiled at the memory of slipping the ring on Lois' finger, then marveled over all the changes that had taken place in his life over the last twelve months alone."I know I don't come around as often as I should, Dad, and I wanted to apologize for that. Not that this is an excuse or anything but things have been kind of crazy around the house lately with the kids and all; we're still adjusting to taking care of two instead of one. I think Lois and I are doing alright so far: Haley just learned to smile a little while ago, and she loves it when I tickle her tummy, and Jason—well, he's in the middle of Little League season right now and I think that with a little more practice with his Old Man he'll make a great outfielder someday," Clark informed his late-father, grinning at the reference—never in a million years did he ever think he'd be anyone's 'Old Man'. "I wanted to bring the kids out here to see you but Lois is afraid that the baby is still too small for flying yet and I respect that—but soon, I'll bring Haley to meet her Grandpa Jonathan soon, I promise you that." He sighed and listened as the wind rustled through the small trees nearby, pausing to discern if there was anyone entering the cemetery. When he made out that he was still alone, he carried on.

"I never realized this until now, but I always took for granted everything you did for me when I was growing up. I knew it was hard on you and Mom, raising me because of who I was, but I never knew how hard it was simply being a parent until I had kids of my own. Dad, I want to give them everything, I want to be there for every school play or baseball game, and yet I have this other job to do, this duty to fulfill. It's hard—it's _so_ hard—tearing myself away, trying to be in three places at once. I want to be the best husband and father I can be while still doing the work I was meant to do, and I find now that my children make me want to work even harder to make the world a better, safer place—for everyone on the planet but especially for them, our Miracles. If I'm half the father to them that you were to me…well, then I know they'll be alright.

"I hope you know how much I love you, now and always. I…" He stopped short, the tears welling up in his throat. "I wouldn't have survived, wouldn't have come through after what Lex Luthor and Nick Finneran did to me if it weren't for the love you and Mom gave me all those years when I was growing up. You and Mom made me the man I am today, while Lois makes me better still, and it was that love that helped pull me back from the brink." He stopped again, taking a deep breath while struggling to lay waste to the demons of old.

"I used to find it so odd; people the world over would think that they owed me this huge un-payable debt because I did what I was able to do in a given situation, but now I know better. The people that found me and saved me, I owe them so much for risking their lives to find me. People think I'm the hero, but they're the ones putting their lives on the line everyday, and I'll never be able to repay them for the help they've given me. I owe you and Mom too, of course, for raising me, for giving me a life; and now Lois has given me a family to live that life with, something I never thought I could have…" He wiped the two tears trickling down his face away with his sleeve before catching a loud rustling sound of someone approaching the West side of the cemetery. "I have to go now: there's one more stop I need to make before heading home to meet Lois and the kids for dinner. I'll come back to see you again soon, I promise. I love you, Dad." And with one last lingering look at the headstone he raised his right fist up in the air and took off into the twilight.

* * *

Forty-five seconds later he descended through the opening in the roof of the Fortress, landing in front of the now defunct crystal panel and listening to the stillness that permeated the alien atmosphere. _I know this should feel like home, but with the crystals gone it feels more like a mausoleum than ever._ He stepped forward and eyed the console, wishing he could retrieve the lost data and see the images of his birth parents once more. As it were, he let his memory suffice.

"Jor-el, Lara, it is I, your son, Kal-el. I have come to you this day with news of which I'm sure you would experience mixed feelings on. In addition to your grandson, known on Earth as Jason Samuel Kent, you now have a granddaughter, so named Haley Martha. She was born three months ago to me and my wife, the woman Lois Lane-Kent, whom you met briefly so many years ago.

"I have no doubt that on some level this news would have upset you, for I have consciously interfered with human history by entering into a union with this woman and producing children with her, putting them above all others, but I do not care. Jason, Haley and Lois are my pride and joy, and it is because of their very existence that I strive to make this world a better place, and not just for all of mankind as you originally intended. It is because of them that I continue to struggle against the meanness that presents itself in this world everyday."

He took a deep breath before pushing on. "I fear that my children, although of mixed human and Kryptonian heritage and raising, will not be able to learn of all the wisdom that Krypton had to offer—that they will not know you—because I was foolish enough to leave this place un-fortified during my long absence. As I journeyed to our dead planet the crystals you sent with me to Earth were stolen and subsequently destroyed upon my return. This knowledge must grieve you greatly, I know, but worry not.

"Jason and Haley will know that not only are they the grandchildren of Samuel and Ella Lane and Jonathan and Martha Kent, but that they are also the descendants of Jor-el and Lara, people who long ago made the toughest decision two parents could ever make; to send their son off through the galaxies to avoid the destruction of their home world, and thus avoid their fate. My children will know that they are the noble offspring of the House of El from the planet Krypton, and they will know this because I will tell them, tell them all that I have learned from you in the wake of your deaths. As Krypton lives on through me, so it will continue to live on through my children."

Clark stopped his speech and hung his head low, wishing his birth parents could stand before him now and see how sincere he was in this promise as well as hear the earnestness in his voice. He was about to give into his sorrow when he heard Lois' voice slice through the silence of the Arctic as she called out to him from their Metropolis home.

"Honey, if you're not too busy, would you mind picking up some formula for the baby on your way home? I forgot to get it at the store earlier and we're almost out. Thanks! Oh, and dinner will be ready in ten minutes if you're hungry." A small smile crept over his face, and he cleared his throat, willing himself to continue.

"Seventeen months ago I nearly perished. Twelve months ago I was married. Three months ago I became a father for the second time. Both of you knew long ago that life could change in the blink of an eye—you knew this and so much more, even before I was cognizant of it myself—and instead of keeping me close, having me die with our people, you let me go so that I could experience all that is good and bad in this world for myself. You let me go so that I might guide and protect the people of Earth, but first and foremost you let me go so that I might truly live. I thank you for that everlasting act of love and kindness from the bottom of my heart. This gift did not come without sacrifice, and I only hope that I have made you proud in the manner in which I've chosen to live."

He let the words echo off the cavern walls, aching for them to be heard while knowing from somewhere deep inside that those most in need of hearing them had. His wife called out to him again.

"I'm sorry to bother you again, Clark, but would you mind picking up some eggs too? I didn't realize that I'd used the last of them yesterday afternoon. Sorry! Thanks again, you're a lifesaver!" Clark laughed outright in the midst of the snowy gloom.

"I must take my leave now—my wife, Lois, is calling for me—but I will return in the future with my family. They will know of this place and of our people—but more importantly, they will know of the two of you." He stepped away from the console and gave the Fortress one final glance before flying away toward Metropolis—toward home.

* * *

Seven minutes later Lois heard the key in the lock of their apartment and turned away from setting the table in time to see Clark come through with a plastic grocery bag in his hand.

"Well I've got to give it to you; your hearing certainly saves us from unnecessary cell phone bills," she told him with a laugh. He chuckled too, strolling over to the counter to put down his burden before walking toward the mechanical swing where Haley sat rocking back and forth, her wide eyes fixed on her father. Jimmy was right, they had gotten darker, but only in that her eyes were now a deeper shade of blue more closely resembling her brother. Haley cooed and smiled as Clark picked her up.

"That's right," he said, switching into baby talk. "Who's Daddy's Little Girl? Who's Daddy's Little Girl? You are, Haley, you are…" He wriggled his nose in her tummy and she smiled. _How could Lara and Jor-el have ever let me go?_ he thought, as he held the warm bundle of life that was his child in his arms. _I couldn't have been much older than Haley is now when they knew Krypton was to be destroyed. How could they have sent me off? If it were me_... His brows knit together in concern as he looked at Haley and watched Jason zip in and out of the room, knowing he could never willingly send them off into the unknown, not like his parents did. _The heartache must have killed them long before the explosion did…_

Lois finished setting the table and walked over to kiss her husband as he placed the baby against his chest and shoulder, an odd look of joy and sadness playing on the features of his face. She sensed that something much deeper was going on in his mind just then and so she tried to lighten the mood. "You're going to spoil her rotten, you know that, right? She's going to be a big old softie and then no one who knows me will believe that she's my daughter too…"

He shook his head to bring him back to reality, smiling broadly while replying, "Oh no, I'm sure once she understands the meaning of the word sarcasm your half of the gene pool will become very readily apparent."

"Gee, thanks."

"Anytime."

Jason zipped back into the room and took his seat at the table, sniffing the air to judge when the hamburgers and hot dogs would be ready. "Hey Dad," he said as his father ambled over to the table.

"Hey there yourself, Sport. How was baseball practice this afternoon?"

He let out an over-exaggerated sigh before replying. "Oh, you know, it was alright."

"Jason!" Lois exclaimed, "That's not true! Now tell him what you did today at the field."

Clark braced himself for news of his son flaunting one of his super-powers in front of the other children.

"Well…" The boy looked down at his feet swinging away before turning to his father with a pleased grin. "I caught my first pop-up today! And I was the only one on the team to do it too!"

"Son, that's great! I'm so proud of you!" he said, reaching over with his free hand to tousle his son's hair. Jason squirmed and giggled at the show of affection. Haley cooed on Clark's shoulder and he remembered to put her in her laid back bouncy chair nearby.

Shortly thereafter Lois came out of the kitchen with a tray of burgers, hot dogs and assorted condiments in tow. Her foot caught on a fallen baby toy and she was about to tumble backwards, food and all, when Clark dashed to her side to catch her.

"Easy there, Miss, I've got you...and our dinner."

"My hero," she replied dreamily, mocking the look of a love sick schoolgirl while he let loose a hearty laugh. She gave him a peck on the cheek for saving her before moving to the other side of the table, seating herself between her two children and across from her husband.

He turned to survey the scene in front of him, the plate of nearly up-ended food in his hands, and his heart swelled at the sight that met his eyes. The three people he loved most in the world were seated before him, cheerful and smiling, and he knew then that this was the life he was meant to live; this was why he survived, this was the happiness he was meant to have. His grin spread across his face as he leaned over to place the food in the center of the table.

Then Clark Kent pulled out his chair and sat down to enjoy dinner with his family.

**THE END**


	82. Author's Note

**Author's Note (2/27/08): **This message goes out to anyone and everyone, whether you've enjoyed "Searching for Clark Kent" since I posted the first chapter or you caught on late in the game and enjoyed the tail end of the ride. I'd like to thank you all for your support during this incredible journey—this story would never have come so far if it weren't for all of you, so thank you for reading and taking the time to review.


	83. Author's Note Continued

**Author's Note Continued: **On a side note, let's just say that I now know how J.K. Rowling felt when she cried for three days straight after completing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows…I wasn't been quite as bad, mind you, but a few tears were shed as I typed the final paragraph. With that said, I'd like to give you all a glimpse of "Searching for Clark Kent" by the numbers, so that you may see for yourself how far we've come together.

--This story, including all the Author's Notes (save this final one), comprised of 205,000 words. That's a total of 385 pages on Microsoft Word (and that's the most I've ever written to date, ever).

--There were a total of 81 chapters (again, not including this one) written for this story.

--I received a total of 590 reviews (that's an average of 7 reviews per chapter), from the following people (and if I somehow skipped your name then I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE, as I tried to get everybody and it was not intentionally done): JamesTKent, mamaXunicorn, Vgerland, sportchick359, red lighting, RheaJediknight, twrecks, NiteAngel, ALittleBlackHeart, Ar-Zimraphel, repmetsyrrah, zozobozo, starlightxxv, Jokerisdaking, HPGal3, ScrewyLouie12, IolantheAlias, JadedofMara, gambitarchangel, SongoftheDarquePhoenix, Kaitlyn Likes Flannel, ShannonK, westwingnut221, winthjo, ReadingRed, Pony R., Second-Last Herald-Mage, ArellaoftheLuvara, napd567, Kloklo, Divamercury, Cali, Classic Cowboy, beauty0102, Sailor Serenity5, mak5258, Dmik33, Friesian Lover5690, Chuthulupenguin, Serry3, jabb, shadyrenee, Hope of Freedom, Wild Irish Rose31, enchantedsleeper, VictorianSuperman, BobbieRae, abigfan, Kearseer, Saela, Kara-el, mcgairman, Ally, DragonFlame27, Rathalyn Starwind, RoswellianMisha, amefinch, Joy Beck, Shado Librarian, JJ the elusive, Jess, agsw, sprite, SupportSeverusSnape, stillthetooth, lilbit4, dotsie23, Jord-el, Sreya, Rob, Rose Beall and Willow Fireheart. Thank you all so much for your criticism and your support. "Searching for Clark Kent" wouldn't be nearly as good a story as it is without your help and encouragement. I'm sure there were many more lurkers out there who didn't have time to review (as the hits counter can attest to) and I'm glad you all enjoyed the story too.

--I started writing this story on July 17, 2007. I finished writing it on November 21, 2007. That is a grand total of 127 days spent toiling away. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that I spent between 600-700 hours writing and editing and editing and writing…right up until the bitter end. I've even edited this final note at least a dozen times (no joke).

--It took six months EXACTLY to update this story on a consistent Monday/Wednesday/Friday basis, starting on August 22, 2007 and finishing up on February 22, 2008.

--I spent 3 dollars writing this story. That's how much the bottle of super glue from my local market cost, which I had to purchase once the period key fell off my laptop from over-use. I think that happened around page 230.

And as far as the number of smiles writing this piece brought me…well, there really are too many to count there.

Thank you again for sticking with "Searching for Clark Kent" for all these weeks, and I hope that you'll check back in a month or two as I'm well into writing it's sequel, titled "Consequences"; the new story will follow Jimmy Olsen and Chloe Sullivan as they move forward with their budding relationship in the months and years following the timeline started in "Searching". There will also be a new villain and (hopefully) plenty of angst and action to satisfy all. I'm sorry that I can't tease you with anything else just yet, but I'm still hammering out the details and editing the piece along with help from my new beta, the lovely VictorianSuperman ;-)

Once again, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you so much for joining me on this journey, and I hope that you will all keep reading and contributing to this wonderful fan fiction site! So long for now (but not for forever) and take care! Happy writing and reading!


	84. Final Author's Note

**Author's (Swear to Goodness This Time I'm Not Kidding) Final Note (5/15/08):** Hello again, everyone! I hope this note finds you well. I'm sorry if I'm clogging up your in-boxes with this little message, but I forgot to let you all know that the "Searching for Clark Kent" sequel—entitled "Consequences"—has been up since May 1st. The story is rated T and I intend to upload a new chapter every Tuesday and Thursday for as long as I have beta'd chapters.

So what are you waiting for? Go check out the first five chapters that I've uploaded; things may start out slow, but I can practically guarantee that you'll have just as much fun with the new story as you did with "Searching for Clark Kent". Besides, what have you got to lose?

--Wahoogal


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